Syndrome
by Evan Ashling
Summary: Sarah discovers Jareth posing as a glam rocker in the Aboveground and their rocky relationship develops, but things are not always what they seem. They are faced with a very real problem: Who is the goblin king?
1. The Concert

Author's Note:

This takes place in a modern, 2007 setting. Sarah is not eternally young or stunningly beautiful or ethereal in any sense, though of course Jareth is as timeless as any Fae.

I admit I was inspired for the beginning of this story by the wonderful Anne Rice and her _Queen of the Damned_ (a thoroughly enjoyable book, if you are fond of vampires and philosophy). It seemed the rest is highly influenced by more music, books, and movies. If you care to hear of all of them, please feel free to ask.

Obviously, though many authors find the need to point it out constantly, I own nothing of Jim Henson or The Labyrinth, and I shall not disclaim my story further. If I did own any smidgen of his company, I would probably not be writing this at all. Rather, I'd be milking it for all it was worth in the hopes of pursuing my dreams of writing screenplays and progressing through the film industry.

Of course, all reviews are appreciated, both the good and the bad. I would appreciate some discerning critiques, and really ask that even if you chose not to finish the story, please drop me a line and tell me why so I might progress my technique and better my stories for the benefit of all.

And now, I leave you to the bloody story. I shall not interrupt you again unless it is quite important.

_Believe me,_

_Yours Truly,_

_R.Cabe_

"_Somewhere, _

_Along imagination, _

_There lies a labyrinth. _

_It twists and turns you, _

_With wicked machinations._

_Out there,_

_Amidst the conflagration,_

_There lies my labyrinth._

_My heart, your hands,_

_My kingdom, your nation."_

Sarah flipped through the album booklet and read the lyrics along with the song. Her hand slithered toward the phone, eyes never leaving the pages. She flipped it open and speed-dialed her mother.

"Miranda Williams, Audiolabs," came her voice after the second ring.

"Hey Mom, it's me," Sarah said as her eyes slid out of focus.

"Sarah, how are you?"

"Fine, I'm great. I was just listening to that new album you guys put out last week."

"_Labyrinth_? Ohmigod it's been a complete hit! You wouldn't believe how fast it's going for the top. This guy's got some voice, he's brilliantly talented."

"Is it true that he's going to start his tour in San Francisco?"

"Yeah, why? Do you want tickets? We're releasing them tomorrow but I can grab a couple of good ones for you."

"Just one would be great, thanks Mom."

Her mother sighed into the receiver. "How about two? You could ask that nice boy from the pharmacy to go with you. What's his name?"

"Mom, I am not getting my dates from the pharmacist's. We just went out to lunch once and we didn't really get along. He's nice but," she was searching blindly for the right reasons, "but no."

"Right, one then. Let me know if you want another, though. I'll still have a couple."

"And, Mom," she said slowly, closing the album booklet and staring into the unusual eyes that had been haunting her dreams for too long, "What about backstage passes? Do you have those?"

"Hmm, I don't think so. The concert manager is in charge of those and I haven't met him. I'll let you know though."

"'Kay, thanks. I'll let you go now. Love you."

"Love you too, darling." Sarah closed her cell phone and continued staring at his face, completely lost in thought.

A month and a half later, Sarah slipped into her favorite ratty jeans and pulled on a grey tank top. Though the irritating streaks of grey hair had been dyed back to _Espresso: Dark Brunette_ for the past two years, she still looked young and fresh with her hair swinging loose in back.Hey eyes were done up with heavy black eyeliner in the spirit of the rock concert and she even wore lipstick. She hardly ever wore lipstick anymore.

Jareth was blaring from the stereo in her living room, his lyrics and voice penetrating her every thought. Her stomach was clenched, as though a cold hand had run down her back; and her legs were weak, as though she'd just finished a triathlon. After slipping several of her customary rings onto her fingers, she walked from the bathroom and into the living room of her modest condo in Sacramento. She ejected the CD from the system and snatched up her purse on the way down to the car.

She slipped it into the player as she turned the engine, and soon enough Jareth's lyrics seeped into the interior. With a satisfying whir, she sped out into main traffic on her way to the freeway.

Something about Jareth had her completely mystified. She felt certain she'd met him before, or heard him or seen him somewhere, but she could never pinpoint where. No one knew his full name, not even at Audiolabs. Apparently he made all transactions through his agent.

Even his lyrics, the words themselves, seemed to float through the very subconscious of her mind. It was as though he was seducing her through his music. But that was silly, he was seducing everyone. That was why his videos were on every television, his album on every chart, his songs flooding the lists. Everyone wanted to be seduced by him. And yet no one really knew anything about him. He was a glam rocker. A persona. A mask. And the public loved it.

Two hours later she was rolling into the amphitheater, parking, and getting out of her car. Hundreds of people were lined up outside the building. Teens in crop tops sat on the roof of their cars and blared Jareth's music through their car stereos. Many people were dressed in replicas of Jareth's costumes. Many more wore spiked blonde wigs done in fairly bad representations of his own pouf of hair.

Deep in the pit of overwhelmed fans, Sarah squirmed to the front of the stage. Big guys and their twittering girlfriends glared her as she pressed between them and pushed her way up to the very rim where she grabbed onto the wood, knuckles white.

Nearly as soon as she reached the stage, the lights began to dim and a wave of screams took over the arena. Sarah cringed as the people around her pierced her mind with the tumult. She closed her eyes for a moment and steeled herself for whatever would come next.

Dark figures were moving across the blackened stage. Sarah could see them stooping to pick up instruments and one, with a silhouette of puffed hair, loosing the microphone from its stand. Her blood raced through her veins, her hands grew weak.

The footlights came on abruptly, illuminating the band, and there in the center was the one called Jareth. Screams pulsed afresh, higher pitched and with more startling resonance. He stood basking in it for a while, a smirk dancing across his lips. The giant screen behind him was focused on his rebellious face, his eyes seeming to glow in the strange light. Yes, he looked so familiar. So ethereal. But that was because he was in the pages of every magazine, on the screens of every television. He wore tight black jeans and a blue silk poet's shirt, sleeves swirling as he moved. A wide white silk belt bound his waist. He looked like a pirate.

"San Francisco," he said into the microphone, the screams renewing their efforts. And then he purred. It was an odd noise, but it drove the girls wild. Some of them were crying as they reached for him, like a deity on the dais.

"_What's said is said_

_What's done is done,"_

His lyrics began slowly, like a chant. More screaming. The musicians behind him steadied themselves.

"_Let me show you your dreams."_

The band suddenly broke into a frenzy of movement and sound. Guitars exploded into life, the keyboard trilled surreal notes through the cavernous amphitheatre. His voice was like a dream, something so wonderful that she could hardly focus on it. She stood stock still amidst the pushing and dancing people around her, slightly buffeted by their motion.

Finally, he finished the song and whirled about. It happened so fast that at first it didn't register. He now wore a red shirt with a black silk belt. Sarah blinked. The lights hadn't changed at all. How astounding.

The concert went on with more fast costume changes growing ever more elaborate. His music was like a trance. Halfway through the concert he spoke to the audience again.

"I'd like to borrow a song from the illustrious David Bowie if I may," he said softly. Appreciative clapping broke out. He began to sing _Diamond Dogs_, but it was twisted and dark in sound, something from a fantasy. As he sang, he somehow transformed into a Halloween Jack costume, finally slipping a patch over his eye as he reached the appropriate refrain. Bowie fans cheered throughout the arena. After this he transitioned into _Let's Dance _and then _Heroes_.

After, he moved back to his own songs: the passionate _As the World Falls Down_. Sarah felt herself becoming mesmerized as he moved slowly about the stage in the sparkling sapphire-blue coat. Backup dancers in ball gowns waltzed with him as the keyboard tinkled lightly like a music box.

He came close to the audience for the first time, singing to them as he walked along the edge of the stage, allowing them to reach up and touch his boots, his hand. He was working his way ever closer to Sarah, who despite her grounded affection for Jareth's music, couldn't help but stretch her hand out to his. He stopped walking and the music drifted through instrumental, a diving and soaring guitar riff. He took her hand in his, looking at her fingers. His smile had faded. Then he looked up, into her eyes. Something odd passed between them as they looked at one another, a creeping, prickling feeling. He blinked as they eyed each other.

He pulled the microphone away from his lips and leaned closer. "Sarah?"

Her world froze. "How do you…?" she began, but he grasped her hand tighter and lifted her to the stage. Jealous fans whistled and screamed with delight as he took her into a waltz.

"It's you," he said softly. How she managed to hear him she could not know.

Suddenly, she was grabbed bodily from behind and dragged offstage. Jareth was too startled to do or say anything, and then the music cued him to continue singing.

"Don't try that again or we'll have to ask you to leave."

Sarah brushed past the security men who had grabbed her and slipped out the back doors. She felt their eyes on her, but they let her leave. Cool October air brushed across her sweating arms and chilled her to the core. She trembled as she made her way steadily out to her car, hair grudgingly lifting from her sticky shoulders.

After the long walk, she reached her car. She climbed in and leaned back. Sheltered from the wind, she began to feel warm again, but she couldn't move. Still she shook, though why she could not be sure. Of course she was amazed that she had been pulled onstage, furious that she'd been pulled off again, but she was more perplexed that he had known her name. It deepened her confusion and reinforced the belief that they had met before. High school, perhaps? A secret college admirer? Yet, she was sure she'd never met a Jareth in her life, nor even anyone with such a presence as he.

It wasn't until she started to hear the crowd exiting the arena that she actually started the car and drove away. Her legs were limp and heavy, her mind eager to rest in the dark recesses of sleep.

The traffic was far less taxing in the middle of the night and she was home in only a little over an hour. She turned the key to her condo and stepped into the moonlit entry. The eerie red light of the answering machine blinked. She lay her keys down and pressed the button, moving into her bedroom to pull off her sandals and slip into pajamas. A shower could wait.

The long high beep trailed through the rooms. "Sarah, this is your mother, just checking in to see how the concert went. I would have gone, but not quite my crowd. Call me in the morning when you wake up. Kisses, dear." The machine beeped again. "Sarah." Beep. "End of final message," the robotic voice spurted.

Sarah cocked her head to one side as she belted her robe. She poked her head into the entry and rewound to the last message. "Sarah." Beep. "End of-"

She rewound it again, this time coming around the corner and bending low to the speaker. "Sarah."

It was him.


	2. Peaches

Sarah couldn't understand how, but Jareth had called her and left a message. It didn't seem possible. It _wasn't _possible.

She shook her head gently, as thought to clear it, and trudged back to her bed.

"I'm hearing things. I must be hearing things," she muttered as she fell across the bed and clicked off the light.

…..oOo…..

The next morning Sarah awoke just after ten. She rolled off the bed and groggily climbed into a hot shower. She washed off the day-old makeup and sweat of the concert before and wondered what exactly had happened. Steam rolled out of the bathroom as she left to find breakfast, wearing her robe. The answering machine glared at her: a small, deceptive little thing. It crouched like a rabbit but, Sarah feared it as she would a jaguar in the jungle.

She turned from it and went to fix a bowl of Captain Crunch. The cereal spiraled into her generous bowl. She systematically flung open the drawer to retrieve a spoon, banging it closed with her hip as she opened the fridge.

Something caught her eye. She closed the fridge slowly, eyes unfocused as she tried to detect what she had seen. Something black and out of place. She blinked and stared at the magnets on the fridge. Round red circles for holding notes and photographs that Toby had sent her, her notepad for grocery lists and-

She ripped the page from the fridge.

**State Farm Insurance**

"**Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there"**

_Sarah_

It was scrawled in a cursive, handwriting that she could not recognize. And, it looked like it had been written with a fountain pen, certainly not a ballpoint.

"What," she said as she held the note closer to her eyes, "the hell?"

The phone rang. Sarah jumped. She stared at it, the tone trilling like something from a bad horror film. The light winking with the ring. She walked slowly to the receiver and stared at it. It rang three more times, until her answering machine clicked on.

"_You've reached Sarah Williams. Can't answer, but leave me a message and I'll get right back to you._" Beep.

"Hey dear, it's your mom. I know I shouldn't-"

Sarah fumbled the portable phone, "Mom, hi. Mom? You there?"

"Hi sweetheart, hope I didn't wake you."

"No, no I was up. I was just," she glanced down at the note in her hand. "I was in the kitchen. Couldn't get to the phone."

"Good. So how was the concert? I've been hearing nothing but praise from the press."

"It was fantastic. Were you in my house anytime last night or this morning?"

"No," Linda said slowly. "Why? Is something wrong?"

Sarah swallowed. "No, everything's fine. I just," she glanced back to the note. It shimmered in the sun from the window. Shimmering.

"It's nothing. Yes, the concert was amazing." She told her mother about how Jareth had pulled her onstage and how the security had shunted her, but she left out the part about him knowing her name.

"What an adventure! I think Audiolabs may really have a winner."

They hung up a few minutes later and Sarah went back to her cereal. She stuffed the note into a drawer and went to cradle her bowl at the kitchen table where the sun warmed her face.

She ran a mental list of what she had to do that day. Sunday. That means laundry, run to the store, hit the library to get that book Toby had recommended. What was it called? She turned to glance at the note on the fridge and realized it was gone. "He took my notes?" She jumped to her feet and stormed to the fridge.

"He took my notes!" All her lists; booklists, grocery lists, things to do; were gone.

"That's just off," she mused quietly. "_I'm _just off." She had to stop referring to this little note as though Jareth, the rock singer, had actually been in her house.

"That's ridiculous," she chided herself, downing the rest of her milk and stuffing the dishes in the dishwasher.

Sarah dried her hair and dressed for the day. Loose jeans and a sweatshirt. Perhaps she'd grade those papers this evening with some hot cocoa. Yes, that would be nice.

She grabbed her purse from the side table and opened the door to leave but stopped abruptly. Two bags of groceries and two books lay on the doorstep. She stared at the neat little pile for a moment, then pulled it all inside with a frown. All the groceries from the list, plus eggs and a bottle of good red wine. And the books? _One Hundred years of Solitude_, Gabriel Garcia Marquez. That was the one. And, a little, red leather tome.

She gasped as she dropped it back onto the floor. _Labyrinth_. She hadn't seen this book since she was a young girl. It had disappeared and she had blamed Toby for it at the time, but she had always shrugged it off as fate. She had been dwelling on it far too much. It also reminded her of her mother, who had been all too distant in those first few years after the divorce.

Suddenly, she remembered something. She flipped through the pages of the book quickly, looking for the name. _Jareth, Jareth,_ she thumbed through the pages quickly. Slid into a chair in the living room and continued searching, but she couldn't find it. She began to read from the part where the Goblin King came to take the child.

Several hours later, Sarah sat up and slammed the book shut. She had re-read it cover to cover and the name Jareth had not been mentioned once. He was only referred to as the Goblin King. "I wish I could figure this out," she muttered, storming into the kitchen to grab an apple. She noticed the groceries still on the floor. "Damn! This is ridiculous!" She scooped up the bags and carried them to the counter. The milk smelled pretty sour, and she had no idea about the eggs. She drained the carton in the sink and took absurd pleasure in grinding the eggs one by one in the garbage disposal.

"Apple," she murmured, opening the fridge.

No apples. But there was more milk, more eggs, and a single peach. She laughed, despite herself. Peaches. She liked peaches. Her mind reasoned with her that she probably shouldn't eat a peach that some mysterious rock-star-stalker had left in her fridge because chances were it was laced with cocaine. But reason or not, she was so stressed out now that she didn't really care. She grabbed the peach and went back into the living room to sit with the book. She threw one leg over the easy chair and settled into the pillows. With her free hand, she raised the novel to eye level and she bit into the peach. It was sweet and tangy, completely normal. No razorblades, no cocaine, nothing she could detect. She finished the peach and wiped her fingers on a napkin, laying the pit down a plate on the table. She continued to study the book. It was as though there were something she just couldn't quite remember, something from her past. That was where the memory ought to have been. She flipped the pages of the book slowly.

"Where are you hiding?" she whispered. She stopped on a random page and read what was there.

_He handed her a smooth, round peach. It looked so perfectly delicious, it almost glowed. "Wow, thanks Hoggle! You're a lifesaver!" She bit into it, savoring the taste, but then, "It tastes strange. Hoggle, what kind of a peach is this?" Hoggle muttered something and ran off into the dark forest. She tried to focus on Sir Didymus and Ludo, but already they were so far ahead that she was having trouble discerning them from the gently swaying fronds._

"_Everything's dancing," she gasped. She slid down to the forest floor, resting her back upon an old and twisted root. The air seemed to almost shimmer, the ground glittering with tiny stars, the leaves winking and fluttering as if to an unheard song. But, there was a song, a thin melody over the air. _

_She looked up. Three crystals hovered before her, and one, one of them was playing the melody. The melody of her music box, the dancer even twirled inside. But it was not a figurine, it was her! She, Sarah, twirled,_

Sarah dropped the book. It had changed. No, that's impossible. But it had seemed so familiar. She went back to the beginning and scanned it. Yes, this book was about her! And Toby, and-

The phone rang. "Bugger off!" She yelled, but got up anyway to answer.

"Sarah Williams, I'm on cocaine, leave a message. Beep." She said in a daze.

"You're what now?" Came Toby's deep voice. "I know you're lonely Sarah, but drugs aren't the answer."

"I can't explain it though, Tobe, things have been really strange the past few days."

"So you're not really on cocaine?" he laughed.

"How should I know?" she replied, her voice serious.

There was a pause. "So what's going on?"

Sarah wandered back to her chair and _The Labyrinth_. "Have you seen this Jareth guy? The rocker?"

"Yes! Do you know who he looks like?" Sarah tensed. Maybe here was her answer. Here was the key- "Grandpa Williams when he was younger." Sarah gave an exasperated sigh. "No, seriously! Just stick a wig on him."

"Toby, I think he knows where I live."

"What?"

"He's been here, in my condo, he's been raiding my fridge!" she realized how insane she must sound. Toby was laughing. She laughed a little, too. "Okay, that sounds odd. But he left me a book. I used to have it when I was little. It was a gift from my mom. And it was called _The Labyrinth_."

"Isn't that the name of his album?"

"Yes. And, I lost it when I was fifteen or sixteen and never found it again. Even when we moved, I never found it. And, then it just shows up on my doorstep with eggs and milk and so I read it and then things start appearing, not to mention he called me, and then I went back to read the book and," she took a deep breath, "it's _changed_. It's not the same story anymore! I finished reading it just a half hour ago and I came back and it's a _new story_. And not only that, we're in it. And Jareth, he's in it too."

She realized she hadn't read his name yet, but she was sure he was there.

Toby sounded worried. "Do you want me to come over, Sarah? Are you alright?"

She was yearning to go back to the book. And Hoggle, she remembered him! He was just a short dwarf who liked jewelry. But, how could she know this?

"I'm fine, Toby. Let me call you later." She hung up the phone and went back to the book.

An hour later and she was re-reading the part about the peach. She remembered it all. She knew about the ballroom, the goblin battle, the room of stairs, of defying the goblin king. Of defying Jareth. She remembered everything. And Jareth, he was here, somehow, in the Aboveground.

He was trying to communicate with her. And, oddly enough, buy her groceries.

"What can this mean?"

She knew what she had to do. She would have to wish for him. But, she wasn't sure if she wanted to. Perhaps he wanted to revenge himself for his defeat so many years ago. Perhaps the whole concert, the whole rock-star thing, perhaps that was just to find her.

She opened the book again as she thought. Immediately music began to play. _As The World Falls Down_, one of Jareth's songs. The same song her music box had played; the same song from the crystal. She slammed the book closed, afraid to hear more.

Because what could that song mean, other than that the Goblin King had fallen in love with the girl?


	3. Your Way, My Way

-1The story. The song. It was all about love. And she'd been too scared to admit it until now.

_But what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl and given her certain powers._

A fifteen year old girl is hardly attentive enough to recognize real love. She's not even attentive enough to recognize her _own_ emotions. But a thirty-five year old woman, well; that's a different story. Of course Sarah had had her romances, her affairs, her flings. She had recognized love as it struck down all her friends. She had seen it transform them from career-minded women into spouses, housewives, mothers. And it frightened her. No, disgusted her. She didn't want that to happen to herself.

Sarah was an economics teacher. She believed in working hard and gambling smart to succeed. Business did not suit her, nonetheless. She preferred the philosophical mindset and rewarding feeling that came with teaching. Though nothing could stop her from pursuing business if she chose to. She wasn't trapped.

Marriage, now that was trapped. And naturally she associated love with marriage, or assumed it would lead to it, and so naturally she shied away from love. Not that it wasn't bad once in a while. Just not with expectations. Not in a contract.

Sarah rose from the chair where she'd spent most of her morning and a decent chunk of her afternoon. She snatched her backpack from the floor and settled in the kitchen, whipping out a neat stack of typed papers to grade.

Her red pen dazzled the pages, making notes and leaving comments, praise, and opinions. The logical, methodical movement calmed her nerves. The reasoning felt delicious to her overwrought mind. Paper after paper she marked. Forty-seven of them. By the time she was finished, darkness had begun to descend over the valley.

She slid the neat stack of papers into a folder and back into the bag. What else now? Laundry. Just one load.

By the time her clothes were whirling about in the washer, she was ready for a break. Something numbing. Television. She clicked the remote on her way to the fridge. The bottle of wine caught her eye. She hesitated, then pulled it out and set to work on the cork. It popped free with a jimmy from the silver instrument that had only been used at her best friend's surprise party. She looked hard at the wine goblets in her cabinet, then shrugged and carried the whole bottle into the other room.

_Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure_. Yes. This was perfect. She settled down to watch the movie, pressing the bottle to her lips as she stretched out on the sofa.

Half an hour later, she was giving the television the air-guitar salute and rocking out with the loveable idiots, and her new best friends, Bill and Ted.

The bottle finished, she cleverly made her way to the kitchen to force down several glasses of water and a few pieces of bread, praying to whatever that she wouldn't wake with a hangover, and she stumbled off to bed.

…..oOo…..

He turned around and smirked at her, white feathery cape swirling in his wake.

"Sarah."

Hey eyes flew open. The sound of his voice still seemed to echo in the room. It was still dark outside. She glanced at the clock, 6:00am. The alarm was off. She glanced around the room, looking for signs of a person, but found none. Her head felt a little stuffy, but as she brewed some coffee it began to clear.

Work in two hours. Huzzah. Though as the caffeine began to take hold, she felt marginally more optimistic about her Monday.

She sped out the door and hour later, bag in hand, and hurried off to class.

…..oOo…..

That evening, Sarah pushed open the door to her condo and slipped in, palm beating the wall in search of the light switch. Finally it clicked on. She locked the door behind her and turned around.

She nearly fell over when she saw him standing there.

"Hello Sarah," he said softly. He was grinning as she cursed quietly and braced herself on the wall.

He stepped into the light of the entrance hall. Gleaming black boots, narrow faded jeans, and a black T-shirt, despite the chill. His hair was cropped closer, a much more practical look, and his hands were resting gently in his pockets. He made her think of a candid photo of a rock star on his day off. _Because he _is _a rock star on his day off, you dolt,_ she chided herself.

"It's been a while since we've spoken," he stopped, resting his weight on one leg. "Sorry if I startled you."

"We spoke at the concert," Sarah half-slid, half-crawled along the wall away from him.

"Now really, I hardly call that speaking. A brief greeting at most." He raised an eyebrow as she stumbled through the kitchen doorway. "Don't be so shifty," he said with a toss of his hair. "Or am I that frightening?"

"You're awfully bold," she said in a not entirely civil voice. He _was_ that frightening. Especially when unexpected.

"Come come now, do you really expect me to be anything less than bold?"

"I'm not really sure what to expect from you. I certainly wouldn't have expected you to call me, _ever_, or to invade my home and buy me groceries." She had slipped past the kitchen doorway and into the darkened living room.

He followed her slowly, matching his pace with hers. He smiled as she backed slowly away. He stopped. She froze. "You've changed so much and yet not a bit."

"I resent that. I'm a wholly different woman."

"You are jumbling things. You are the same person entirely, just grown up. We never really change. We just learn."

"I suppose you've learned quite a bit then, to be offering such wisdom." To her surprise, he looked almost wistful.

His voice was quiet, "Yes, I daresay I have." She was disarmed by his momentary solitude, but he soon looked up and struck her with another sly grin. They eyed each other for a time, and then he took another step toward her. Sarah jumped. He looked startled. "May I sit?"

Sarah was so thrown by this question that she took a full half a minute to come to her senses and nod. He moved past her and sat on the couch. It seemed so unusual to see him sit. She had never seen him sit, not onstage, not in the Labyrinth. He leaned back into the cushions and crossed his legs. She slowly made her way around and sat in the large chair furthest from him.

"Why are you here?"

He scratched his chin in the throwaway casual manner of one who is above such things. "I am here in your home because I thought to talk with you and I am here in the Aboveground because the Underground tired me."

"Why did you want to talk with me?"

"Does it matter?"

Sarah blinked and her gaze became unfocused as she stared down at her lap. She could sense Jareth grinning broader as though she amused him. It infuriated her. 

"Now _you _tell _me_: Why did you go to the concert?"

She looked up quickly. He studied her closely. "_Does it matter?_" she mimicked. This seemed to please him. She glared back coldly. "How did you learn my phone number?"

"Magic," he stated.

"And how did you buy me groceries?"

"In the usual way, of course." Somehow Sarah couldn't picture Jareth in the supermarket.

"Erm, why?"

He rolled his eyes. "How else do you expect me to buy you food?"

"No, I mean why did you buy me groceries?"

"Well, isn't that part of Aboveground courtship? Calling one another, buying each other food and all that rot?"

Sarah couldn't help but laugh at this. "Um, sure. Yes." She stopped abruptly. "Wait, are you trying to court me?"

"I should have thought that was obvious."

"Oh damn."

"That's hardly the reaction I had hoped for."

Sarah jumped up and began to pace. "_Damn!_"

Jareth frowned. "I'm not sure I understand."

She looked at him incredulously. "The last time I saw you, _really _saw you, you were threatening to turn my baby brother into a goblin. You made me run through your maze like a goddamn lab rat! And then you tried to tell me," she dropped off. _That you loved me. _"Look, the point is, I don't even know you. To me, you're the evil guy. You're twisted, if not a little perverted."

This made him smile again. "Fair enough. We'll do this my way." He stood up and made for the door, picking up a leather jacket from the chair as he went. Sarah felt an inexplicable panic as he moved away.

"And what exactly is _my way_?"

He turned to face her. "I'll pick you up at eight. Friday."

She was too shocked to respond. He let himself out, quietly shutting the door behind him. When she ran after and opened the door to protest, he was already gone, though a shimmering powder lingered in the air.

"Damn."


	4. Friday at Eight

-1Sarah spent the rest of the week in a state of fluctuating anxiety. The only time when she forgot about Jareth completely was while she was at work. He just didn't fit in with the real world.

But every evening when she got home, she would inevitably grow anxious and jittery. The slightest sound could make her jump; headlights catching the drapes made her blood run cold. Though why, exactly she was so scared, she wasn't sure. Of course, he scared her. There was no doubt about that. And, why shouldn't he? But he seemed to be innocent enough, albeit conceited and quite inexcusably bold.

Friday came around much more quickly than anticipated. Before she could so much as unwind from work, she was hit with a pang of nerves so fierce that she was forced to lie down.

There was no way out of it. He'd made sure of that. He was coming here to pick her up at eight.

He was coming _here._

All at once she had a brilliant idea. She just wouldn't _be_ here. She switched into a comfortable red cotton dress with black leggings and a black wrap shirt. She pulled on her crochet beanie and boots and was out the door as fast as she could.

By eight that evening, Sarah was comfortably camouflaged amidst a crowd of artists in downtown Sacramento. Her friends were engrossed in a discussion of "approach", stabbing the air with their cigarettes to accent their points.

"But carrying so much equipment isn't _practical_. Sure, I could have a tripod strapped to my back, and lenses, and God-knows-what with me to be stolen, but why do I need it when a Polaroid captures the moment instantly? Shows you your prints, _and_ comes out with a vintage charm!"

"But, you can't use Polaroid for everything. Sometimes you need something crystal clear. Sometimes you want the tripod. All I'm saying is you can't_ just_ rely on a Polaroid."

Sarah leaned back into her chair and sipped her wine. There was something so welcoming about this little grotto full of neo-Bohemians.

She looked out over the café. There were dozens of other artists, many of them smoking sweet smelling cigarettes, and chattering about anything and everything. Eight o'clock. She'd beaten him again. Their waiter was picking his way through the crowd, head down to watch out for backpacks, easels, purses, tripods, and everything else an artist has been known to carry.

He came straight up to Sarah and lifted his head.

"Holy shit!" She screamed, nearly falling out of her chair. Her friends whipped around. Jareth cocked an eyebrow at her and set down her friend's drinks. She cleared her throat. "Sorry, I, erm, burned myself."

She stabbed out her barely touched cigarette in the ashtray and glared at him. "Excuse me for a moment," she said to her friends, but she dropped some money on the table and carried her purse as she followed Jareth around behind the café.

"Clever. So we begin the chase," he said slowly as he turned to face her in the damp alley.

"Funny. Tell me: Why do you persist on chasing?"

He lifted a finger to stop her forthcoming rant. He didn't seem terribly bothered by her escape attempt. "Here's a question for you: Why not give me a chance?"

She wanted to glare at him, but he had a fair point. Why not? Good girls always like a bad boy now and then anyway. "Fine. You win," she conceded. He smirked triumphantly. "_This_ time, anyway."

"Good. Shall we?"

"Shall we what?"

"Do things my way."

"What?" he was already grabbing her by the wrist, gently, and using the other hand to conjure a crystal. "Wait, what are we-" she was cut off by a sudden whirl of wind and the next thing she knew they were standing atop a very tall skyscraper in a city that definitely wasn't Sacramento. Icy wind whipped at her hair. She shivered slightly, but he slipped a long, warm coat over her shoulders and began to lead her to the stairwell. "What the-"

"New York, New York. And, what a fabulous hell it is."

"How- why-?" she stuttered.

"Magic, naturally. How did you expect me to stay on tour? Come along." He led her all the way down to the street.

"Where are we going?"

"We're just doing things my way. "

"What _is_ your way? Are you going to tell me?"

"Why did you decide to become a teacher?"

Sarah was taken aback. "I suppose I wanted to make a difference. Teaching was what I liked most." She remained silent, waiting for his comeback.

"How long have you been teaching?"

"This is my sixth year."

"What did you do before you started teaching?"

"I went to school. I held small jobs. Why are you interrogating me?" Sarah demanded irritably.

"Because I want to get to know you, so stop being so defensive. I wouldn't spend all this effort just to interview you." Sarah fell silent.

"What did you study?"

They passed over an hour this way. He would ask her questions and she would respond. Even though it was past midnight in New York, the streets were still busy with nightclubs and bars and evening entertainment.

"But why not do something that will get noticed? I, for example, decided to become a rock star. Why didn't you become an actress? Once upon a time you would have given almost anything to follow that dream."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "As if it's that simple. You can't just decide to be an actress or a rock star and just do it. It takes the connections, the talent, the looks."

"I did it."

"Well, you've got all that." She blushed. She'd walked right into that one. But, well, he was quite handsome. That didn't mean anything.

"Oh really?" he smirked.

"But you have magic too," she continued hastily. "You don't have a budget or bills to pay. It doesn't matter if you fail." He was silent as he took in this point.

"What is it you humans always say? You're always talking about following your dreams and hard work pays, and things like this."

Sarah walked on, eyes clouded with the past. "It doesn't. Even when you give it your all, anything can step in and ruin it." Jareth respectfully waited for her to continue. "My mom, for example. She worked so hard to follow her acting career. And, then she had me, and her brother died, and then she started drinking. Then there was the divorce, which led to more drinking, and then she was checked into the hospital with a bottle of aspirin in her stomach." The hollow, numb feeling that was so familiar crept into her limbs. "So even though she worked so hard and fought so long, everything else brought her down too far for her to surface again."

"We do not have so much of this in the Underground. But it can be fixed. Everything balances out in the end."

"Life goes on," she said bitterly.

She was growing quite tired and cold. Surprisingly though, Jareth was lagging even more. He seemed very tired, his eyelids sagging a little.

Jareth checked his watch. "I think it's time to go."

"Sorry. I got carried away."

"Not at all." He held out his hand. She took it without looking at him. The next thing Sarah knew, they were in her entryway. He released her hand slowly and stepped back. Sarah watched him as he studied the floor for a moment, and before she realized it she was smiling.

He gave a small cough. "I do hope you enjoyed yourself."

"I did." He nodded and conjured a crystal. "But, Jareth," he looked up. "Next time, you have to tell me about yourself." He grinned, and with a shimmering cloud, he was gone.

Sarah sank down into her sofa and curled up, wishing she had some cocoa. She looked back to where he'd been standing, as though it would help her think. She noticed steam rising from the table next to her. A mug of hot cocoa sat on a coaster.

…..oOo…..

The following week at eight, Sarah was waiting. In her lap was yesterday's newspaper. Emblazoned all over the entertainment section were pictures of Jareth and a listing of his tour. Every few minutes she would glance up at the clock then back to the paper.

**November**

**Friday 14th 7:30pm New Orleans, Louisiana**

Would he be able to take her out this Friday? She didn't really care, but she was all dressed up with no other plans. She looked back over her shoulder at the answering machine to check for the fourth time if he had called. No. She smoothed her shirt methodically and laced her fingers in her lap.

8:07. "I need to just get up and do something else. Either he's late or he's not coming. That's it, I'm getting up. I'm going to grade papers while I wait," but she found she couldn't bring herself away from her post by the door. 8:09.

All at once there was a thin shattering noise, like Christmas ornaments breaking, and he was there in the doorway.

"I apologize for the tardiness, but I had to take care of something."

"That's alright." Something tight in her chest unwound. "What were you doing?"

"Working," he waved his hand dismissively.

"Did you come here straight from the concert?"

"Shall we go?"

"No, this time you answer _my _questions. Did you come directly from a show?"

"I did."

Sarah jumped up, inspiration striking. "Sit down," she darted back into the kitchen. "We're staying in tonight. Just sit, make yourself comfortable." Having him there and clearly very exhausted awakened some maternal instinct to take care of him. He needed rest. She came back in the room a moment later with a bottle of red wine.

"It's nothing special, but I think the situation calls for it." She poured him a glass and passed it to him. She settled with her own and stared into her fireplace. As though he had heard her, flames sprang up around the logs instantly.

They sat still for a time, watching the flames illuminate the ruby jewel of their wine.

"Long day?" Jareth said.

"Long week. You?"

"Deliriously so."

Sarah took another moment to clear her mind of all the stress from the layoffs and test scores, then settled in to question him.

"Why a rock star, anyway?"

He rubbed his temple and swirled his wine slowly. "A rock star is powerful. Well known. Admired. What's not to like?"

"Do the paparazzi bother you? I wouldn't want to deal with all of that."

"No. I'm quite fond of them, actually. They're amusing." Sarah laughed. "What I do is sing. I don't ask to be famous or have my picture taken. Yet thousands upon thousands will pay for my album or to see my name in print over a big color photograph. Droves of humans come to see me perform. All I do is sing, and they love it."

Sarah settled into the chair and pondered that. He sipped from his glass. "I love to be loved. They will do anything for me. Grown men will scramble to please me, like dogs; women throw me their undergarments. They all want to please me. I could have any one of them."

Sarah furrowed her brow and felt that old feeling creeping back up. "Any one. And, not one pleases me." He reminisced with a smirk on his face.

Sarah took a fortifying swig of her wine and set it aside. "Is that what you like about being a rock star then? Subservience? Adoration? Women?" Irritation was laced within her voice.

"Oh, and the men. Don't forget them."

"So you don't deny it?"

"No. That is part of being a rock star and I do enjoy being a rock star."

Sarah snorted and turned to the fire.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

"No. Stop flattering yourself," she replied tersely.

"Oh indeed." He watched her over the rim of his glass. "Do go on then."

"Why do you have to be so unnerving?"

"I enjoy it. Ask me another," he sank back into the sofa in carefree spirits.

Sarah glared at him. "I won't."

"All right, I'll just talk then," he cleared his throat. "It all started in my childhood. I was raised a prince, you see. Naturally, I enjoyed attention and became accustomed to lavish tendencies and eccentric behavior. I grew up, became King, and none of that changed." He paused. Something dark flicked through his eyes for a moment, then it was gone. "Now I am older, wiser, and much more humbled thanks to present company, and so I come before you with far less extravagance than I am accustomed to, and I find that I enjoy it for it's plainness." He raised the glass to his lips. "And that is my story," the words caught in the cup.

"What! Tell me about your childhood. Tell me about the Underground."

"Ah, no. I'm afraid I don't take orders. You'll have to ask."

Sarah fumed, but curiosity won. "Will you tell me about the Underground, O Spoiled One?"

"Most certainly. What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Where is it? What is magic? How does it work?"

"I'm afraid I have no answers to that. It is neither here nor there. I'm not even sure when it is. As for magic, the best likening is to The Force."

"The Force?"

"Yes. One can be strong with magic just as one is strong with The Force."

"You mean The Force in _Star Wars_?"

"Of course."

"It's not real."

"Oh, it isn't?" he mocked.

"You have to be joking," Jareth reached for the bottle and poured another glass. "You mean that's all real? There's a Luke and Leia and Vader, and all that?"

"Was. That was a long time ago, though, and of course, the stories have been twisted a bit over all that time."

"Jesus," she breathed.

"I don't really know about him, but he does seem to be quite the celebrity up here."

She laughed softly.

"How do you get there though, if you don't know where it is? To the Underground, I mean."

"It's a matter of magic and knowledge. I may not understand its location, but I know it's there."

"Wait, I have to catch up," she finished her glass and poured a larger one. "I'm not ready for that sort of talk. What about the rest of the Underground? What kingdoms are there? Tell me about it."

Jareth described the Underground in great detail to Sarah, inserting anecdotes along the way much to Sarah's delight and annoyance. He rocked perpetually from exasperating to charming until, at two in the morning, he excused himself and left Sarah alone with an empty wine bottle and a promise to meet the following week.


	5. Proclamation

-1Nearly four months passed this way. Every Friday Jareth would arrive at her home around eight, and then they would either go out to some distant location or they would spend a quiet evening at home. As the cold weather picked up, they both found they much preferred Sarah's cozy fireside nest. Occasionally, Jareth changed his meetings to Saturday mornings or Sunday afternoons to accommodate his European tour schedule.

What surprised Sarah most was that even with his downs, she was always clinging to his ups. He often infuriated her, but he also made her feel whole. By nature she was a gentle person, usually unflinchingly kind. She rarely had a chance to vent her deepest thoughts, and Jareth never seemed moved at all by her tirades. This infuriated her more, but it was a novel feeling. And she was noticing more and more that he _didn't_ needle her so much.

He was always very thoughtful, taking her to places she remembered and loved or new places that he thought she would enjoy. Just a few weeks ago he'd taken her to Paris to celebrate Valentines Day. It was very romantic, though thankfully sans hearts and frills. She was startled when she realized how much he had come to mean to her. Even with all his imperfections, she had come to have feelings for him that were by and large unprecedented.

That week, the last week in February, Jareth arrived at precisely eight with a large grin and a few bottles of nice wine.

"Finished. I'm off tour."

"I thought you said you enjoyed every bit of being a rock star."

"I had a little too much of that bit. Let's stay in tonight shall we? There's rain heading your way."

"We could go anywhere in the world and you're stopped by a little rain?"

"No, I want to listen to it."

Sarah felt a flush of jittery nerves course through her body. "I love to listen to the rain."

"That makes two of us then. Sit, I've got it," he came around and after some dexterous uncorking and pouring, they each reclined with their glasses. Sarah was sprawled over one end of the sofa, Jareth sat in the chair. He watched their newly sprung-up fire and she watched him.

A time passed like this, and it wasn't until the rain began to pat on the roof and windows that they moved at all.

Jareth still gazed into the fire. "You're staring at me." Sarah thought for a moment. "What are you thinking?"

"Come sit with me."

He looked up, quite surprised, but saw she was quite genuine. He moved over and sat next to her, watching her curiously. She slid over the rest of the distance and wrapped herself into his arms, her back leaning against his chest. He moved his free hand and leaned back a little into a pile of pillows.

They spent a long time just enjoying this simple intimate pose, sipping their wine slowly and feeling the warmth of each other, and of the fire. Jareth tentatively stroked the hair that fell over her shoulder. It felt so wonderful, so relaxing. His fingers made their way to her temple and worked gently along her scalp, then he withdrew as though worried he'd crossed the line.

It struck her quite suddenly. _He loves me. That's why he does all this. He would do anything for my attention, even be the King of all Prats just to make me give him one shred of consideration._ And what's more, she wasn't afraid. She felt tears on her cheeks, though she felt anything but sad.

"Sarah, you're trembling," Jareth said with some concern.

She wriggled around to face him, setting their glasses aside. She placed one hand behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. He looked surprised, almost fearful.

"Jareth, do you love me?"

He searched her face, confused. "Of course I do. I've always loved you."

She smiled as a mingled sob and laugh pressed through her lips. "I love you too, Jareth. I swear I loved you even before I knew it. I love you." She stopped crying immediately, though tears glistened on her cheeks. "That was the hardest thing I've even done."

"Harder than my Labyrinth?"

"Quite the same, really," she leaned in close, a devilish smile playing across her lips. "I wish that the King of the Goblins would come and take me away… right now," she whispered. Her eyes closed, she pressed in closer.

He drew back stiffly, a terrified look on his face. She understood at once that something was wrong. "Sarah, I'm no longer the Goblin King."

A beat of understanding hit the room in which Sarah and Jareth stared helplessly at one another. Almost instantly, glass shattered. Cold wind and rain buffeted the pair of them. Jareth thrust Sarah behind him as a man grew and appeared from the shards. He was very tall and thin, with long fingers and legs. His black brown hair was short and stood up in all angles, giving him a wild appearance. But, what frightened her most was his mouth. It was thin and frozen in a sneer, and right now it was twisted into maniacal laughter. When he stopped, he looked steadfastly at Sarah with piercing grey eyes. She tried to slip closer to Jareth, but he rose and took a step toward the man.

"How fantastic. How absolutely fantastic!" he laughed again, gesturing toward Jareth. "He wins her and loses her so quickly!" Jareth bristled visibly, his arms tense, legs anchored to the floor with dangerous defiance. "She's wished herself away to the Goblin King, did you hear?" he said mockingly.

"You will leave her be," he growled.

"I will not," he replied, walking slowly to the couch where Sarah sat, curled in shock. She glanced between Jareth and this man hysterically, searching for some answer. "How fantastic. How divine."

"Etan, leave her. You gain nothing from this."

"Not the way I see it. Now look Sarah, he doesn't see your value. Come along and I will show you your own beauty," he smirked and held out his hand.

Jareth stepped between Sarah and Etan. "Leave her." Sarah rose and moved just behind Jareth's right elbow, squaring her shoulders and leveling her chin.

"My, Jareth, but you are brash. Step aside before I am forced to fight you. Fight and win, just as before. You are no match for me." Jareth straightened and glared at him. "You know as well as I know that there is nothing to be done. This creature has wished herself into my hands and so I must take her, as the magic binds me."

"And, you know as well as I know that you can stop it. Leave her now, I will warn you no more."

"But Jareth, I don't want to. So I am afraid that the girl comes with me." He stepped closer, eyes locked on Sarah's.

Jareth raised his hand, a crystal balancing on his fingertips, but Etan was too quick. He flung out his arm and Jareth flew backward over the couch and slammed into the wall. Sarah screamed. Etan walked around the couch and raised his arm. Jareth rose like a puppet from the floor, the crystal rolling away useless. His face was contorted into pure rage. He twitched in violent spasms against the spell, but Etan only laughed.

"You have tried my patience far too many times, old man. I will not tolerate it any longer." His hand balled into a fist and Jareth grimaced in silent pain. Sarah watched helplessly as his struggling grew weaker. It was impossible. Jareth, the unending source of wit and wiles, struggling for his life… and losing.

"No! Stop it!" Sarah leapt out and grabbed Etan's outstretched arm, yanking it as hard as she could. He looked in mild surprise at Sarah, then lowered his arm and unclenched his fist. Jareth collapsed on the ground, rolling onto his back. His jaw was set against the pain.

"Stop. I will go with you, just leave him."

Etan sneered. "I will take you anyway, little princess. You have nothing to bargain." His fist clenched again and Jareth actually gave a strangled cry of fury. Sarah felt her own body going numb with fear. No.

She did the only thing she could think of and stepped around in front of him, but Jareth still cringed against the wall. She snaked an arm around Etan's waist and stepped closer, distracting him. He looked down at her, still sneering. He had one eyebrow raised as though to challenge her. She pressed her body against his in desperate attempt to seduce him away from Jareth's destruction. "But he means so little," she crooned quietly in his ear. "Please, let's just go, quickly," she purred.

He froze for a moment and Sarah feared that her attempt was in vain, but then he wrapped an arm forcibly about her waist and turned her around to face Jareth. "See? The little princess already forgets you. At any rate, you will suffer more with this knowledge than any death conceivable."

He whirled around, dragging Sarah with him. She cast a quick look over her shoulder, throwing Jareth one pleading glance, hoping that it would say at least a fraction of the affection she felt for him at that moment.


	6. Castle at the Center of the Labyrinth

-1Sarah coughed through the smoke that surrounded her. As it cleared, she saw that she was once again back in the mysterious Underground. They were in the throne room, just as empty and abandon as it had been when she had rescued Toby. Its peculiarities came back to her like something from a dream, the color of the stone, the smell of the air wafting through the open windows.

"Well, little princess. What say you and I celebrate this marked return, shall we?"

Sarah turned around. Etan was standing there, now dressed in casual tights and blouse. He strode toward her as she thought of a response. He was distracting her, reminding her of the way Jareth used to needle her, as he advanced. But, something indistinct was off about him.

"Come now, don't be shy."

Sarah thought quickly. "Can I go home and find something more," she paused, allowing him to watch her hips as she moved toward him, "comfortable?"

"We have anything and everything you could possibly want here," he growled.

Sarah closed the distance between them. "But I know just what to wear. Please?" she placed a hand on his waist, repressing her urge to spit in his face.

"I can't just go back above on a whim, my precious one, because the magic needs to be connected there as it was when you, so charmingly, wished yourself into my hands." Sarah turned her head down to hide the satisfaction on her face. "But, it doesn't really matter what you wear anyway. It's what you _don't_ wear that counts," he said in seductive tones.

Sarah pushed away from him and walked to the window. "You don't really think I'd consent to that, do you?" He said nothing, but his lusty grin fell away. "You can't go back and harm Jareth."

His face reddened. "I can have you any way I like. You're consent matters little to me."

"Ah, but it would be so much more enjoyable, would it not?" She turned around to face him. "The hunt is more fun than the kill."

"I care not for your distractions. I will have you when and how I please."

Sarah ignored him. "I offer you this: I will be civil as long as you are civil. In this way, you can pursue the chase and I shall play the part of the unbiased hunt. Do we have an accord?"

Etan studied her for a moment, then smiled knowingly. "Suit yourself. But I warn you, if I tire of your coy games, I may retract my accord and go about things my own way."

Sarah was painfully reminded of "Jareth's way", and wondered if he was alright. When she came out of her reverie, she realized Etan was standing too close now. She jumped.

"I suppose then, dear Sarah, that I should play the gentleman and show you to your rooms. You won't be going anywhere soon, so I suggest you make yourself comfortable." He placed her arm in his and she grudgingly followed him.

They wound in and out of hallways until they stopped just outside a large set of double doors. "I trust you will be comfortable here. And if you want me," he smirked, reminding her terribly of Jareth, "I sleep in the room just down there," he gestured down the dark hall. "Pleasant dreams."

With two swift movements, he bowed and shut the door behind her.

The dark room suddenly illuminated with hundreds of tiny candles mounted around walls near the ceiling, rather like stars. A simple, raised platform bed was set in the very center of the room, with pillows arranged in the middle. She could see an archway leading into what she presumed was a bathroom, and another which seemed to lead into a closet. Each was hung with a shimmering white veil that matched the tidy white of the bed. Out a large window, she could see the labyrinth stretching out to the distant hills, stars glittering overhead. There were three moons.

She sank onto the bed and gazed out over the labyrinth. "I wish I could see Jareth, right now," she whispered. Slowly, faintly, something began to shimmer before her eyes, flickering indistinctly. It gathered together, materializing into a foggy crystal. _The king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl and had given her certain powers._ Perhaps, this was some residue of his old magic, giving her some power here. It glowed from within, becoming stronger as she cupped it in her hand.

She could see Jareth, gingerly moving through her apartment. Even though he winced, she could see he was walking straighter, as though healing. He seemed to have no real purpose in his movements, but he had that faraway look of someone deep in that dark terrain of thought.

Fog began to cloud the crystal again. "No," Sarah murmured aloud. She cupped it helplessly, giving it a little shake. The contents swirled like water in a pond, then became clear again for a moment.

Jareth was crouched on the floor, one gloved hand to his forehead. The other was splayed on the ground. As the picture slipped in and out of focus, she could make out his former regal attire of the Underground. He stood abruptly and then the contents flashed white. Sarah stared hard, then shook the crystal again. In moments her condo came into focus but, Jareth was not there.

She was still searching the crystal when something white flashed out of the corner of her eye. She jumped up and ran to the window. She was sure she had seen it, somewhere out there on the edge of the labyrinth.

She looked back to the crystal, but it was too foggy to see anything. Finally she retired to the bed, curling up under the covers and tucking the crystal under the pillow. She was so exhausted that she fell asleep almost instantly.

…..oOo…..

When she awoke, sunlight was just streaming into the window and across the floor to her face. She rolled over, the strange and somewhat frightening memories of last night sinking into her consciousness. She slipped her hand under the pillow to bunch it and her knuckles hit the solid cool surface of the crystal. She pulled it out and gazed into it. Nothing.

A thought struck her. She balanced it on her fingers and tried to turn it the way Jareth had. It rolled limply to her lap, but a brief flash of foliage swirled through the mist. She tried again, but it was ridiculous. Every time it went careening off her arm and into a pile of pillows. But she did see more brief glimpses of a forest rather like the one in which the firies had lured her. "I wish this blasted thing would just work," she muttered, but nothing happened. She clutched it tight to her, not wanting to leave it unattended for fear of anyone else discovering it. "Then I wish it could be worn around my neck, hidden, during the day," she said with a touch of irritated sarcasm. To her surprise, it shrank to a tiny little thing and sprouted a thin silver chain that allowed it to fall between her breasts. She put it on and tucked it out of sight. Perfect.

At a loss to what was expected of her in this new world, she rose and made her way to the door, intending to wander the halls in her faded jeans and blouse from the previous day. As she reached the door, she noticed a little note sitting on a small table that she was sure had not been there before.

_Sarah, please dress in something more suited to the Underground and I shall meet you for breakfast._

_Etan_

She left the note on the table. _Cordial_, she reminded herself, and went back to the place she had imagined to be a closet. She pushed aside the veil and entered a veritable cavern of dresses and clothes.

"Good God, he wasn't kidding about the clothes."

She wandered back and forth, studying the different sections of clothes, then settled on a green tunic with bell sleeves and brown pants of suede. With these she fitted riding boots and a belt. She admired her own ingenuity in a mirror that appeared to be made of polished metal like the Egyptians used so many years ago.

She slipped back out, and into the bathroom: a white marble room with what she guessed to be a shower and a sort of flushable chamber pot.

Soon enough she heard footsteps by her door and she went to open it. Etan was dressed in a fresh blue blouse and tan tights, the apparent standard for any Goblin King. She fought back the images of Jareth and tried not to think of how much she wished it was he instead of Etan there to take her to breakfast.

"Good morning, dear Sarah, I do hope you found your room satisfying."

"It was comfortable," she kept her face perfectly blank and maintained a straightforward stare.

"And so, we shall to breakfast."

…..oOo…..

Breakfast was a silent affair, as was lunch. Sarah spent her free time roaming around the castle aimlessly, occupying her mind with little stories and memories from her past. Oh, how she would have loved to run through these gardens when she was nine and full of "Prince Charming" stories. The wicked whatever left far behind in the castle, she could escape its tyranny and secretly fall in love with the prince-in-disguise that roams somewhere far out in that enchanted forest.

But, her escape from the tyranny of Etan was limited to the span between mealtimes, as she discovered when for the second time that day he startled her to bring her in for mealtime.

She had found that she was able to say absolutely nothing and he left her in peace. She feared when he would grow weary of this sustained silence and threaten to retract the agreement, but for now she was content to just wait. She slipped a finger in the neckline of her blouse and felt the chain pressed there, hidden from view. She could feel the miniature crystal rolling lightly between her breasts.

The sky was just beginning to turn orange when they stepped back into the castle. He led her to the same dining room where they had spent breakfast and lunch, though now candles covered the table and steaming plates of something lay in wait.

She politely waited for Etan to begin eating, chalking up another point of good behavior in her favor. He took a small bite, watching Sarah as she watched her lap. She could feel his eyes on her as she lifted her fork.

"So Sarah, how have you been enjoying my castle?"

"It's charming," she quickly took a forkful of vegetable.

"What have you been doing all day?"

"Walking. Thinking. Not very much really."

"What have you been thinking about?"

"Nothing important. Just little memories."

Etan watched her carefully. Sarah took advantage of the silence to take another bite.

"I suppose you've been wondering how I came to be king of this land."

She swallowed quickly, "Yes." Sarah _had_ been wondering, but tried to limit her thoughts to ones that kept her happy and sane.

"I'm glad, because you play such an intrinsic part in the conquering." Sarah set her fork down slowly and looked at him. He was grinning in a vindictive way. "Oh yes, I don't need to tell you about the defeat of Jareth's pathetic labyrinth. You already did that for me." She swallowed. "I, who had been watching Jareth's kingdom for quite some time, finally saw a flaw in his seemingly impenetrable fortress of maze and mind: he had emotion. Affection. Attachment. He was merciful, even benevolent. He could love. All these things worked against him, you see, for with these feelings comes fear and weakness, and ultimately lead to downfall.

"Yes, you, my precious princess, weaseled through his labyrinth and wormed into his heart. Do you really think he would have done so much for you just because of some idiotic wish?" Sarah's breath caught in her chest. "You not only solved the labyrinth, but you weakened Jareth to the point of destruction. I took him down with such ease one wonders how he ever became a king in the first place. His uncle would have done better killing him when he had the chance."

Sarah tried to seem unaffected by this news, but a barrage of questions flooded her brain. Who was this Etan really? Why would Jareth's uncle have a chance to kill him? Why would he want to kill him? Who was, or is, Jareth's uncle?

"And so now, I reign this kingdom. Jareth fled to the Aboveground, the only place where I could not find him. There, he does outweigh me," his mouth became a thin line as he said it. "His magic far outstrips my own. His connections to the Aboveground gave him a safe haven. That is, until you found him and so kindly gave me the power to come up and find him myself."

Sarah drank from the water goblet, keeping her eyes off Etan as he laughed deeply. "Really Sarah, you are the perfect fit for a bride. You are the real reason I'm here at all."

Sarah bristled, but was rapidly distracted by a swelling sensation by her chest that had nothing to do with pent up rage. She glanced down inconspicuously and realized with a wave of panic that the crystal was beginning to grow.

She jumped up and stormed from the room, Etan laughing all the more. He clearly considered it a fine reaction from all his needling. Sarah found her way back to her room and locked herself inside. She pulled the now fully grown crystal from her tunic and stared at it, hoping for a sign. Of course. She had only wished it to remain hidden during the day. The stars were beginning to appear in the indigo sky, a sanguine horizon fading away to violet.

One by one, the candles in her room began to ignite and balance the fading light. She shook the crystal, but it only swirled white like fog. Again, she practiced turning the crystal, but to little avail. It seemed he was still in the forest. Now and again she could make out his figure pacing in the trees.

What took him? It had surely been more than thirteen hours, and if anyone could work through the labyrinth it would be Jareth. She jumped up into the wide window, resting her back against the still warm stone. Out over the labyrinth she gazed, her eyes resting on the large patch of dense trees in the middle.

"Oh Jareth, I'm so sorry," she said quietly, holding the crystal ever closer and fighting back the ripples of emotion that threatened to consume her.


	7. Breakfast and Darkness

-1Author's note: Thank you a million times over to Oh You Pretty Things for stepping up and beta-ing my massive mess of typos and grammatical errors. She has been working to catch up and now we are all revised and set to produce some error-free chapters. So, sorry for the delay, but I think we will all appreciate Pretty Things' work. As I would say to my girls, "Say thank you to Oh You Pretty Things!" Thank you. Back to the story.

………………………………...

Sarah awoke with a jolt. She still sat in the window, though it was now the dead of night and quite cold. She stiffly stretched her legs and cracked her back. Her body could no longer take this. She slipped off the wide sill and landed on the stone floor with dead weight.

The crystal was clear now. She balanced it on her fingers again, feeling it resting there and trying to envision how it should roll. No, something was wrong. She lifted the crystal and place it on the back of her hand, nestling it in her fingers. Slowly, she rolled it along the back of her arm, catching it as it tried to jump off her elbow. It was now dark green and black, like the forest.

Again, she placed the crystal on her fingers and rolled it along, this time rolling it back up her arm and catching it on her tripod of fingers. It wobbled and she had to steady it, but this time the picture was even clearer. She tried again and again, managing to speed up the twisting, braiding motion into a choppy imitation of Jareth's fluid movements. It all became much simpler as she understood it, allowing the crystal to balance. Oddly enough, the more the felt she was wrong, the easier it became. Eventually, she settled into a sort of doubt that managed to reverse and produce a dexterous likeness to Jareth's movements.

As it turned, the picture became clearer. Finally, she balanced it upon her fingers and stared into its depths.

Jareth sat against a tree, eyes closed, body relaxed. Sarah nearly dropped the crystal in fear, but recognized the rapid eye movement of deep sleep. The orange glow of embers lit his features. He frowned slightly, a leg twitching. She watched him like this for a long while, taking passive comfort in the knowledge of his safety. She wondered why he was still in the forest though, and not moving to the castle. It had been nearly a whole day and he still seemed to be in the same forest. "Jareth," she murmured softly.

All at once he jerked awake, staring straight ahead. Sarah cupped the crystal closer to her face. "Jareth?" she said a little louder. He blinked a few times, eyes darting back and forth in the manner of one listening to something far away. "Jareth," she said as loud as she dared. But he blinked it out as though disbelieving. Slowly, he rose to his feet and moved over to a small, dying fire. He looked about himself pensively. Sarah noticed many other odd lumps about the forest floor and was startled when one stretched. At least half a dozen Fieries were curled up asleep on the ground.

Jareth looked out over the massive junkyard under the bright light of the three moons. He folded his arms and stared off at the castle in the distance. Sarah looked out the window and wondered. Something struck her: where was the junkyard? She had walked all the way around the massive castle and yet she couldn't see the expanse of waste anywhere.

She gazed out toward the forest again and then up to the stars, hope burning in her eyes.

…..oOo…..

The next morning, Sarah awoke in a pile of pillows, the crystal-necklace lay in her hand just as the crystal had when she had fallen asleep. She bathed and dressed quickly then pushed through the doors and to the dining hall. She wouldn't wait to be escorted like the prisoner that she was. She moved swiftly down the halls in her billowy cotton skirt, all the while glancing out the windows to catch sight of the forest and to look for the massive junk heap.

"The princess stirs" a voice came from the shadows of an alcove. Sarah jumped back, then stiffened as Etan swaggered out and blocked her path. "Was your sleep restful?"

"Quite," she said bitterly.

"Now, now, my tempestuous friend, I would watch my tongue if I were you," he was staring at her mouth, "or I might have to take care of it for you."

He roughly grabbed her by the elbow and steered her to the dining hall, allowing his hands to linger on her waist as he moved her through the hallways and seated her in her chair.

They ate once more in silence, Sarah avoiding his eyes while Etan eyed her menacingly. Sarah finally broke the silence. "Etan, do tell me, why is Jareth's power greater than your own?"

He slammed his fork back onto the table, bringing her attention to him. "Don't you dare mention him ever again. Do you understand?"

"But Etan, really, I was only wondering how it was possible when you are so-"

"Do not play coy games with me. I warn you, I already grow tired of your expedient ways." He stood abruptly and stormed to the door of the room. "I will expect you in formal wear in thirteen hours for dinner." He raised his hand and a clock appeared. "Do not be late. And, do not toy with me any longer. I will not have such insolence." With that, he left.

"Damn," Sarah muttered. His patience was not lasting as long as she'd hoped. Not by a long shot.

…..oOo…..

When darkness fell, Sarah was in her room. She pulled the chain from her neck and watched as the tiny bauble morphed into a large sphere. She began to turn it, only dropping it a few times now, and watched Jareth. He was once more standing at the heath, this time with the sunset fading away on his face. He turned and walked back into the forest, where the fieries were crawling about like possessed monkeys. He said something, but Sarah could not hear very well. The fieries appeared to respond.

Something flashed in the corner of her eye and Sarah whirled around, hiding the crystal behind her back. A clock appeared in her room, showing her that she had an hour before she was to meet for dinner. Grudgingly, she stashed the crystal away and went to dress.

In the clothes cavern, she searched about for what would be considered formal. This was difficult, as there were ball gowns mixed in with Aboveground style formalwear and even some odd sheer bundles that Sarah guessed must be Underground lingerie. She shoved these to the back of the closet and looked over her selection.

What was too formal? What was too casual? She supposed that the ball gowns were considered formal for the Underground, but then why include the Armani and Versace styles too? She thought it best to look stunning to distract him from her earlier behavior, but not so sexy that he would give up on their agreement altogether.

She finally decided on a black and red confection consisting of a flowing black skirt and sheer red silk chiffon empire bodice that flowed out over the black creating rippling sheer wave of color.

She almost literally floated down the halls to the dinning room, swirling in a few minutes past the designated time. Etan was already sitting at the table, a goblet of wine in hand.

"You're late." She turned to face him, then glided over and bent to kiss his cheek. His scowl turned to approval as she sauntered around and sank into the chair across from his. She smiled seductively, then assumed a nonchalant expression that made him laugh with unabashed pleasure. Inside, she was writing in disgust.

"I am prepared to forgive you."

Their food appeared and Sarah noted, not for the first time, that she had not seen any other living thing besides Etan for the past two days.

"Where were you all day?" she began, attempting to redirect his attention off her reconciliatory acts.

"Doing all the things a king must do."

"Such as?"

"Establishing land contracts with the neighboring kingdoms, doing business with the locals, processing traitors," he swirled his goblet. "I daresay there is one prisoner who I'd like to process thoroughly and savagely.

Sarah looked away, uncomfortably feeling her situation. "What else do you do?" she said quickly.

"I make arrangements, settle disputes, whatever my land calls me to do. I am a good king to my followers." Sarah swallowed hard. "Though, to cross me would be unwise."

…..oOo…..

Sarah did not eat much at dinner. Back in her room, she found herself once again seated in the window, staring out over the labyrinth. She leaned back and began to think of Jareth, her mind wandering out to distant places. She pictured the ballroom where she had first doubted Jareth's imposing exterior. How quickly she had dismissed it. She closed her eyes as she fell deeper into the memory.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw the shimmering light of a crystal. She reached out slowly and touched it. The light compressed into a crystal, settling lightly in her hand, and then another formed, and another. Three crystals in her palm. She wasn't sure what to do with them. These were different from the crystal Jareth had given her; they had little weight and rolled about easily in her palm. She wiggled her fingers, watching as they spun around slowly. Inside each one was a vision of the ballroom. She remembered how the three crystals had come floating to find her.

She picked one out of her palm, feeling its soap bubble smoothness and, then she released it into the air. It hovered there expectantly, as though waiting for an order. "Find Jareth for me," she whispered, she blew it out into the night sky. She sent the others off as well and watched them float away gently.

In her other crystal, she spotted Jareth pacing about anxiously. Now and again, he glanced out at the star strewn sky as though wishing for some divine intervention. By now the crystals were out of sight, floating out over the maze like feathers on a breeze. Sarah watched him for a long time, wondering if her crystals would ever reach him.

She had almost given up hope when he broke from his pacing and stared at the sky. His eyes were following something, dancing after a bobbing object in the distance. She smiled as his brow furrowed, then lifted in surprise. He stretched out a gloved hand and one of the crystals broke lightly over his hand.

At once, Sarah felt a tugging sensation in her stomach and her vision melted away into a dream.


	8. Desperation

Sarah could feel her body falling, but she could see nothing. For a moment she felt icy cold, then her senses returned and she landed in the middle of a crowded ballroom. Dancers whirled as if in slow motion around the floor, but Sarah brushed past them with the greatest of ease. She still wore her red and black gown. The silk layers swirled about her feet as she crossed the room.

Then she turned, and Jareth was there. He wore tight black jeans and a t-shirt, just what he always wore when they met for evenings out on the town. It was how she remembered him most. His hair was long though, the same way it had been in all his photo shoots and concerts, and of course, back when he ruled the labyrinth.

He rushed toward her, taking her in his arms and just holding her. The other dancers slowly faded away until they were alone together. Sarah grasped him tightly and felt a surge of emotions rush through her. Finally, he pushed her away enough to see into her face.

"Sarah, how did you do it?"

"I don't know. It just happened." He reached out and touched her collarbone, fingers brushing the silver chain and the crystal bauble. "I wished for it. When night falls, I can see you, there, in the crystal."

"It's the power you had from before. The power I gave you. Though I am gone from this realm, traces of it still echo here."

Sarah buried her face in his shoulder, suppressing the desire to cry. "Don't say that- that you are gone from this realm. It sounds like you are dead," she half sobbed into his shoulder. "I can't bear that thought." She was surprised at how easily she expressed herself.

Jareth stroked her hair. She could almost taste his love surrounding her, and the fact that it had been there all along comforted her more than anything.

Jareth began to speak again. "I've been camped out in the forest trying to find the best approach. The fieries have been helping me. It seems few are content with Etan's reign here and would gladly help to reinstate me to the throne."

Sarah cringed with guilt.

"However, there is this problem of his followers. He keeps them close at hand. The wasteland will be difficult to cross without being noticed. Until we can slip through unnoticed, we cannot risk anything."

"What is the wasteland? Where is it?"

"These are the troubles we face. It appears to stretch for an infinite expanse, but at other times it seems very small. No matter how we approach it, it is impossible to cross."

Sarah straightened. Her hands still clung to the thin cotton shirt. "But surely you understand it? Didn't you build this labyrinth?"

"Its path each king may change, but its nature is intrinsically linked to the magic of the land. I may be able to wind through it, but to tamper with it is beyond anyone's skill."

"So no one understands the wasteland? Then how could anyone cross it? I crossed it," she began, "But, I floated halfway there in your crystal."

"And then what happened?"

Sarah thought. "I found that goblin who took me into the junk cave. But it was my bedroom. I said it was all junk, and it fell away. Then I was at the gates to the castle. I don't know exactly. It was all a blur. I was still dizzy from the peach." She leaned against him. "What if we are floating back to the castle right now? What if we're there right now?"

"If only we were. But I am afraid that you will not have the magical power to bring us back to the castle. No one has that power now."

They were silent for a time, then Jareth began to dance with her slowly. "Besides, you're there now anyway. The only thing traveling in this crystal is our minds. I'm afraid the magic in the labyrinth has dwindled too much for this crystal to hold much more than thoughts and wishes."

Sarah couldn't understand how she could feel so much without even her body to sense it. "How long will it take you to solve the labyrinth?" she said quickly, trying to distract herself from the numb sensation creeping about her legs.

"I do not know."

"I'm scared Jareth," she said suddenly. "I'm afraid of what Etan is capable of." She swallowed. "I've never been scared like this before in my life." Tears slipped unwillingly down her cheeks.

Jareth touched her cheek, smearing the tears across her skin. "I will be here for you," he said softly.

"I'm not afraid for myself," her voice wavered. "I'm afraid for _you_." Jareth was still. He cupped her cheek with one hand, smiling reassuringly. For once it wasn't the smile of triumph or sarcasm, but a genuine smile of benevolence. Sarah gripped his shoulders tightly, "Don't pretend you are invincible, Jareth. He's strong too."

"I never doubted it. He's beaten me once before, he could easily beat me again," he replied calmly.

"Then why do you seem so sure of yourself?"

"Because I've learned that even though I can be beaten, I can still win in the end."

Sarah gave a watery laugh. Slowly, a tingling sensation began to spread through her body.

"I love you Sarah," Jareth said through the ringing in her ears. He was beginning to shimmer as the crystal broke apart.

Sarah tried to call back to him, but no sound escaped her lips. She felt as though she were choking. Everything faded away to black. Her vision came back quickly and she seemed to land with a thud back against the stone of the window seat. As her head spun, she could only watch in a daze as the crystal that showed Jareth rolled off her lap and dropped down far, far below to the pathway. It looked almost like it was floating, its smooth surface betraying no hint of the tumultuous fall. She heard it bounce on the grass: THUD, thud.

She slid off the sill and looked down at it, nestled on the pathway. She could just see the silver white gleam as the moons caught in its reflection.

"Sarah" she heard the deep voice of Etan through the door.

"Yes?" she cried out startled. How long had he been at the door?

He swept open the door and strode into the center of her room. "Why didn't you answer me?" he said, a trace of his infallible anger.

"Oh, I- dozed off," she said quickly. "What is it?"

He did not seem wholly satisfied with her answer, but went on. "I thought you might fancy a walk in the moonlight."

She opened her mouth to protest, but could see it was pointless. He was already taking her hand and all but dragging her to the door. They made their way swiftly to the gardens and out into the silver and blue aura of the moonlit grounds. She allowed him to wrap one arm around her waist, the other outstretched as though to lead her. She swallowed thickly as they passed by the trail that led under her window. She could see the crystal in the grass, waiting like a lie to be discovered.

Thankfully, they turned to walk around the other side of the garden.

"I apologize if I've been harsh the past few days," he began. Sarah shifted about uneasily. "I've been alone for so long. It is rare I have another human with whom I might converse." She tensed as his hand moved slightly along her side, "and you are so beautiful." He steered her along another path and she had the uncomfortable sensation that she could not control where they went at all.

"Thank you," her voice was choked with fear as they moved into the darker corner of the garden. "Let's walk over there by the fountains," she suggested desperately. "I do love the fountain garden."

He directed her back over toward the stone basins, and, she realized too late, closer to the pathway with the crystal. "I've been here in the Underground so long, and with no one to call a friend. Or, a bride." Sarah's body became numb until she could no longer feel the gentle breezes.

"A bride?" she actually turned to look at him, her shocked expression affecting no emotion from Etan's cruel face.

"Yes, Little Princess, in time I will come to call you my bride, and you will call me your king."

Sarah tried desperately to control her expression as his eyes raked her body. She felt the uncomfortable sensation that she was exposed. He smirked. She tried to jerk her hands from his to cover her body. He held them firm.

"Please," she began painfully.

"Please what?" he teased, relishing at her vain struggling.

"Let me go, you're hurting me," she said, finally wrenching her hands from his and clutched them close to her body, sheltering herself from his penetrating glare. He began to walk once more, staring straight ahead, jaw squared and eyes expressionless. Sarah followed in wary trepidation. After a time, he spoke. "You know, I won't put up with this much longer."

"You're not exactly giving me motive to like you."

Her eyes widened as they rounded the bend and she saw quite plainly the shimmering crystal.

Etan whirled around to face her, his back to the path. "You fail to note that I have little patience for persuasion. If you do not choose to love me, then I will make you love me."

Sarah could see the crystal, bright as ever, just over his shoulder. He began to turn around, but in one desperate movement, she caught his wrist and whirled him back around and glued her lips to his. He kissed her back, surprised at her sudden burst of affection.

"That's more like it," he murmured between their lips before plunging back in to ravage her mouth with his. Hands eagerly felt her body, pressing into every contour within reach. She had never been kissed quite so… rapaciously. She felt a detached affection for his appreciation, but simultaneously wanted to cry. He pushed her against a fountain to the side of the path and water soaked the many layers of her dress, clinging to her lower back and thighs. "I knew," he said between biting kisses, "that you," she tasted blood on her lips, "would come around eventually." He sucked her bleeding lip, disgusting and infatuating her. His ravenous kisses moved down to her neck. She shuddered when his teeth touched her skin. Suddenly he stopped, frozen.

Sarah opened her eyes, unaware that she had even closed them. His teeth were still on her neck, poised as though to nip her. He pulled away, leaving her sitting on the stone edge of the fountain, water running down her calves.

All at once she realized what was happening. He moved as though in slow motion to the crystal. It gleamed as he lifted it up and twisted it. He glared at it, then up to the window. He whirled around, rage burning his features.

"Oh yes, now I understand," he hissed. His cape billowed as he stormed toward her. She cringed backward toward the fountain. "I understand everything now. Thought you might try a little magic? Thought you might try to find him?" Sarah's heart was beating so hard that she felt her chest jolting with each pulse. Etan lifted the crystal to her eyes, showing a very blurred, faint image of Jareth. It was impossible to see where he was. "Where is he, then?"

Sarah grinned triumphantly and looked into his eyes.

"Where is he?" he demanded, but her gaze held firm. In a sudden burst of color, she was knocked to the ground. Her face smarted where he had hit her, the other cheek pressed firmly into the damp earth. She felt her hair being pulled as he wound his fingers in and drew her up on her knees to face him, head back as though he were going to slit her throat. "Where?" he barked.

"You will never find him," she said, her voice weak from straining against all the senses that barraged her mind. He flung her to the ground, her head beating against the stone base of the fountain. The moonlit grass spun momentarily. She could taste more blood than before.

Etan drew her back up and forced his lips onto hers, lapping her blood and biting harder. "You will tell me eventually, but for now I will let you think things over in your room." She felt something cold break over her, and then she was sprawled on the floor of her chamber. Exhausted, she pushed up onto her feet and staggered to the window. Below, Etan stared up at her. He raised Jareth's crystal and crumbled it between his fingers, throwing the shattered remains to the ground bitterly.

Sarah felt dizzy suddenly and dropped back to her knees, then passed out on the floor.

………………………………...

Author's note: Sorry it's been so long, readers. School has had me rather distracted. I'm working on a new chapter right now, but it's an important one and I want to do it right. Happy Valentine's day!


	9. Breaking

-1

_Author's note: Sorry it's been so long! There's been a lot to do with school and I've had some minor medical ailments that nevertheless needed addressing. I'm back and writing through the stabbing pain of a pinched nerve, but once again I am full of dreams. Shall we?_

Sarah groaned as she slipped back and forth between dreams and reality. She could feel the cold stone beneath her crumpled and aching body, but she heard Jareth. She couldn't tell what he was saying anymore and she cursed this awakening for taking away her one last butterfly of happiness. At last it fluttered entirely from her and she could no longer remember more than the sound of Jareth's voice.

It must have been midday, because the sun was already high in the sky and she felt very hungry. As soon as she tried to stand though, nausea swept her pain-riddled body and she had to lean against the wall for support. Her head pounded like a hangover, though all of the pain radiated from a spot on the back of her head. Of course, she had fallen and hit it. Rather, she'd been thrown to the ground and hit it. The memory of last night made her tremble slightly and she crawled over to the bed and lay across it, breathing deeply. She still wore the gown of the night before, but the beautiful silk had been crumpled and warped from the water of the fountain.

Delicately, she ran her tongue over his blood-encrusted lips, moistening it until it cleaned away. She could feel the pricks where his sharp teeth had bit into her skin, swollen little cuts that stung like agony. They were already healing though, hard scabs resisting her tongue swipes.

Whenever she moved her head, her vision swam slightly and she felt as though her skull were going to collapse. She was sure she had suffered at least a minor concussion. Now, if ever she wanted one more, she wanted a cigarette. She hardly ever smoked, usually only with her art friends, but she deeply craved the deep relaxation that just one lungful would bring her.

All that she could smell was iron. Her own blood. It was all she could taste. Her knees ached from passing out onto the stone the night before. She was sure she would find deep purple bruises surfacing if she had the energy to look at her legs. The hunger was unbearable, but so too was the nausea. She lay for hours, drifting between sleep and consciousness, her mind churning fiercely with thoughts of nothing. Perhaps she had a fever. She did not know.

What she did know was that by the time she felt able to stand, the sky was tinged with orange. Night was descending like some winged bird of prey, leering at her from the edges of the horizon. Some of her nausea had subsided and she deeply longed for a bowl of chicken broth. She turned about slowly and found, to her surprise, a plate of bread and a pitcher of water. It was simple, but she dare not say it was thoughtful. At least it wasn't stale, so she immediately fell onto a hunk of the loaf.

After satiating her hunger, she allowed herself the pleasure of a shower. She turned the spigot and found, to her dismay, that the water would not heat as it had before. Nevertheless, she bathed, gooseflesh rising on her exposed skin. She dried hastily, the coarse cloth scratching her legs and arms.

She slept.

…..oOo…..

When Sarah awoke again, it was certainly somewhere in the misty depths of nighttime when sunlight is far beyond reach. Only two moons were visible in the sky, their crescents bowing in toward one another, the larger appearing to almost capture the smaller. Sarah contemplated the physics of this for a time, imagining what the alignment of the moons and the sun must look like from space. She couldn't imagine how tangled this universe must be.

She was hungry again. The bread was harder than before, untouched since her last visit. She devoured it completely then moved toward the door. She pushed, but it remained solid as a wall. She pushed again, giving it the weight of her body, but it only strained enough to prove she was locked into her room.

She was truly a prisoner.

…..oOo…..

"Tiger, tiger, burning bright,

In the forest of the night," Sarah mumbled to herself, gazing at the slivers of moons. "Tiger, tiger," she blinked. "Tiger," the lines would not come.

She bore a waxen complexion that was as pale as the moons she watched ceaselessly. With nothing to do and nothing to eat, her time fell to sleeping fitfully and gazing out the window. She gave up on her long forgotten poem and instead thought about an article she had read. Or had her mother told her about it? Women were dissatisfied with their simple, civil Victorian lives and became depressed. To cure the depression, they were locked up in their chambers. _The remedy is worse than the disease._ Where had she read that?

She longed for some sort of contact. Anyone would do. Perhaps some food would be nice. Just a little bit.

The door creaked open. Sarah turned around and rushed to claim the plate of bread in Etan's hand.

"There now, Sarah," he said softly. "Let's not play games with each other." He watched as Sarah tore into the loaf, devouring it as though it were a feast for a king. "You hurt me, Sarah."

She looked up from the plate, chewing fiercely. "You hurt me more, Etan. You've locked me up like a prisoner and allowed me to starve."

"Now, isn't that a bit harsh? How long has it been? Three days?"

"Four, and you know it."

"You shouldn't have been so cruel to me Sarah," he said as she bit into the loaf savagely. He continued as she chewed. "Why would you hide things from me? I, who shared with you everything." She glared up at him. "I, who only wanted to take care of you. To love you." She stopped chewing momentarily. "I should kill you right now, and I could. With my bare hands, I could squeeze the life from your tiny throat. I wouldn't even need to use my hands." Sarah watched him in terror, his face drawing closer to hers. "But I am merciful. After all, you brought this upon yourself. You are the one who struck up a bargain. You promised to treat me like any other suitor." She chewed again, biting another hunk off the loaf and looking away from him. "But you didn't, did you? You were just trying to trick me. You were afraid of me."

Etan lifted away the plate of crumbs that Sarah tried to scour. He turned on his heel and strode to the door. Just before he shut it, he turned around to face her haggard body, crumpled amidst a scattering of crumbs. "I am not cruel, Sarah. Have pity on me," and he shut the door. She listened to his footsteps echo down the hall and crawled to the door to listen as they faded away.

And then she went back to her mind, now processing all he had just said.

…..oOo…..

Sarah felt very unstable, though it now had little to do with her hunger. She stared out the window, feeling the breeze blow in over the sunlit labyrinth. She no longer thought of anything but the moment. Sun, labyrinth shining, forest, trees, breeze. Feels good.

When the door opened, she again lunged toward Etan for bread or food, but he had none. She halted in front of him, searching him everywhere with her eyes. Nothing. Oh, mercy, it had been two days since his last visit. She knelt and grasped his cape in desperation. "Please," she moaned. He hit her face hard and she recoiled onto the floor. "Please," she whimpered and he kicked her hard in the ribs. She heard once crack. "Please," she pleaded once more, something barely more than a whisper. He cocked his foot as though to kick her in the face and she winced into a fetal ball.

She heard the soft sound of metal touching stone and she uncurled to find Etan place a platter of bread before her. "Thank you," she said breathlessly as she tore into the bread.

"Wait," he said, grasping her hair and pulling her up. "Thank me properly."

Sarah leant forward and placed a firm but brief kiss on his lips. He grinned, satisfied, and left the room. Sarah forgot all about the bread for well over an hour as she just sat, rubbing her rib, and trying to sort her memories of Jareth from her memories of Etan.

At long last her mind settled and she set upon the bread. Jareth was someone else from her past. Etan was her present. Etan was the moment. He was a forgiver. Etan was a lover. Etan was her lover, yes. He loved her. She should not judge love. She loved him.

…..oOo…..

Meanwhile, out on the edge of the forest, Jareth felt a sudden twinge of pain and fell against a tree, clutching his chest.

"Your Majesty?" said a voice that seemed to come from far away.

"I'm alright. Carry on," he waved a hand at the group of firies and pushed back upright. Something tingled along his arms, a tingling he had not felt since before his kingdom was taken. He shook out his arm in the old fashion and a crystal rolled to his fingertips. "Oh no," he said, staring in horror at the simple crystal he held.


	10. Defected

10 Defected

Jareth was still camped in the forest. He had been struggling for nearly two weeks now to adapt to the magical environment without the use of his magic skills. He no longer held sway in these times, all the power resided in Etan. What was unusual though, was that Sarah still had some minor skills. Etan did not know that Jareth had given Sarah special powers, and so he had not thought to try to take them away. They were a gift though, and could only be taken away by Sarah herself.

Now Jareth was afraid. If he had any power at all, then it meant that Sarah had given her powers back to him. If she had done that, it could only mean two things: Either Sarah no longer remembered Jareth, thus breaking the contract, or she was dead.

Jareth stared into the crystal he had formed. A blank, sightless ball that mirrored his own worried expression. He flung it away and conjured another. He saw Sarah, her back pressed against a wall, eyes vacant. She ran her fingers over and over through her hair, tugging out knots and smoothing it straight. She looked awful. Her face was dirty, her body emaciated with apparent hunger. He could see her lips moving slightly, mouthing things to herself. She was going out of her mind.

Her expression changed suddenly and she rose and ran to the door. Etan stood there, offering her a plate of warm food. Jareth could faintly here him speak: "You need nourishment." Jareth twitched as she kissed him on the lips then took the food. "You also need to bathe. I will grant you warm water."

"Thank you Etan. You are so kind to me," Jareth looked away as she kissed Etan again. It was enough. He rolled the crystal much smaller and slipped in into his pocket.

The truth was, most of the inhabitants of the labyrinth were dissatisfied. Etan was a cruel ruler who offered them nothing and took everything. To him, they were less superior and did not deserve respect. As he modified the labyrinth, he moved them around to suit his whims. Jareth had been a strict ruler, but also diplomatic. He had given his subjects the respect they deserved and never any less. Those had been peaceful times.

Etan now built a goblin army to attack other kingdoms for their land or wealth. He prepared even now to press into neighboring lands who had once been allies. The goblins are easily manipulated and so do not question their ruler's motives. They are very loyal too, and will fight hard for their king. The question was, and this was what held him; Are the goblins still loyal to Jareth? If they were, they would be easy to persuade to rejoin him and rebel against Etan. The trouble was communication. They certainly wouldn't trust anyone but Jareth himself, and he could hardly walk into the castle grounds and announce his presence. He had been wary, too, of sending an embassy. That could easily go just as wrong. But time was running out, and they had already waited too long.

"Hoggle!" Jareth shouted. The little dwarf scuttled up to his side. He had changed little over the past years, still sporting bushy eyebrows and a wrinkled, oversized face.

"Y-yes, your majesty?"

"You are afraid of me, are you not?"

Hoggle stammered for a bit, brows drawn together in profound confusion. "Yes, I am."

"But you are not pleased with Etan?"

"I aint feeling neither way about him, Sir. He leaves me alone and I leave him alone."

"What if I told you that he held Sarah captive? That he was torturing her and forcing her to love him?"

His expression changed, "Sarah? Tortured?"

"She is the reason I am here at all. He has taken her prisoner, and I must rescue her."

"Well then, why didn't you say so? What can I do?"

Jareth sighed. This was one of the last people he wanted to send as his embassy, but the only one he could be sure would remain loyal - to Sarah, if not to him. Hoggle was a coward and a traitor, but he was sure he would remain intrinsically bound to Sarah.

"I need you to go to the castle and persuade the goblins to join us. It is important that you do not tell them where we are hidden, do you understand? You must persuade them to at least send a group of officers to meet me at the entrance to the labyrinth." Hoggle nodded solemnly. "I trust you can cross the wasteland?"

"Yeah, it's not so bad."

"Then you must be off as soon as possible."

"I'll be going right now then." He started off at a brisk pace, then froze and turned around slowly. "Um, Your Majesty? What happens if I fail?"

"If you fail, then Sarah is doomed." This affected Hoggle like the Bog of Eternal Stench never could, and he immediately set out to cross the enchanted wasteland. Jareth watched him with trepidation, wondering if he might call him back and send someone else instead. But no, this was the only way.

"And, Hoggle," Jareth called through the trees. Hoggle faced him warily. "Don't believe anything she says. She is not herself right now." Hoggle nodded slowly, then again set off once more, picking his steps carefully through the debris.

It was certainly no comfort to Jareth that the fate of Sarah and the Goblin Kingdom rested in the hands of a blundering dwarf who mistrusted him.

..…oOo…..

Hoggle crossed the wasteland with little difficulty. The trick for enchanted creatures was to simply remain determined. Jareth was Fae, a far more complex breed of magic, and consequently the crossing of the wasteland was proportionally more complicated. To cross in a large group would be impossible because each creature moved at their own pace. For a mortal, with no magic at all, crossing the wasteland was a matter of distance. Sarah, when she had found herself stranded in the wasteland, was only released once she had worked the deep magic of self-discovery. She carried the magic that Jareth had bestowed upon her, an intricate bond that was matched accordingly.

By sundown, Hoggle had reached the castle gates. The air was unusually still; the sort of heavy feeling that comes before a thunder storm. Sure enough, the sky was devoid of starlight, the moons masked behind a veil of thick clouds. It made Hoggle uneasy and prone to jumping at the slightest sound.

He reached out and knocked on the gates quickly, then stepped back. Promptly he heard the shuffling sound of wood drawing back sharply and two eyes peered out of a tiny peep-hole at least three meters up the gate. "State your name and business," the goblin commanded in an orderly manner.

"I'm Hoggle, gatekeeper of the labyrinth, here to see the officers of the goblin army."

"Eh? What now?"

"Erm, I need to hold a council with the officers."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, I'm on a secret mission. Let me in already." Goblins are very curious creatures, and naturally enjoy secrets very much. The prospect of a covert operation intrigued the guard so fully that all thoughts of loyalty were set aside in order to satisfy the curiosity.

The peep-hole slammed shut with a muffled bang, and then the sound of the massive bolts being drawn back scraped through the air. A tiny goblin atop a very tall creature waited and nodded Hoggle in the gates, which began to shut again of their own accord. "Come along, then. This way," the tiny goblin boomed importantly.

"Keep it down, now. It's a secret."

"Right then, sally forth," Hoggle trotted along behind the clumsy animal that the goblin rode. If Sarah had seen it, she would have described it as a scaly green giraffe with drooping eyes. When the pair reached the officer's station, the goblin slid down one of the long legs of his beast and led the way into the fortress. Hoggle tottered along behind him, swallowing thickly.

"A messenger, Captain," the sentry goblin announced, then retreated to a corner of the room. Four other goblins were lounging around a large wooden table eating sausage and cheese. Three fat chickens roamed about, pecking idly at the dirt floor.

"Well now, speak up," the fattest goblin said.

"Here, here!" another shouted.

Hoggle tried not to fidget and told the officers as much as he knew, that Sarah was held prisoner, and Jareth wanted to fight for his kingdom and her freedom. "It ain't right the way that Etan treats all of us creatures. He hasn't given us one bit of freedom; it's just all about him." He dug his toes into the dirt, feeling the petty speech ringing in his ears.

"I say, you do make some rather nasty accusations," a thin goblin said pompously. "And how are we supposed to believe you? You may very well be a spy sent from Etan himself to test our loyalty."

The fourth goblin piped up, "Where is the proof, hmm?"

Hoggle bounced his sack of trinkets against his leg and heard the dull clanking of plastic beads. What would Sarah do if she were there? "I'll tell you what, if you let me talk to Sarah then I can prove to you that she's a prisoner and Jareth is here, and if I can't then I'll bring you proof from Jareth himself."

The four goblins stared at Hoggle for a bit, then all put their heads together with a hiss of whispers. Hoggle caught the words "musicals" and "silly-putty," then they all sat back up and faced him. "We agree to let you speak with Sarah, but we can only give you an hour. Hipsynut here will take you to her, but you must remain secretive. His Majesty would not like knowing that you've spoken to her.

The sentry, Hipsynut, came forward and gave a brief bow that nearly threw off his armor, and then led him out the door and along a long path around the side of the castle. After a time Hipsynut came to a halt and Hoggle stumbled into him. "Quietly, now," he whispered, leading Hoggle into a castle courtyard and up a spiraling staircase. Within several minutes, Hoggle stood outside a bolted door. Hipsynut carefully slid back the bolt. "If you hear me sneeze fiercely, then you should hide straight away."

"Right," Hoggle said as bravely as he could. Hipsynut pushed open the door and thrust Hoggle inside. He bounced off something and landed on the floor.

"Hoggle?"

"Sarah?" she was kneeling next to Hoggle, her hair slightly wild but youthful. "It's really you?" She was much older than he had expected. Aging was very different in the Underground, where Fae blood extended the normal processes. He had envisioned the rash young girl that he had seen so many years ago, but there before him knelt an adult.

"What are you doing here?" she sounded strained, her voice cracking slightly from the effort to remain quiet.

"Jareth sent me to you," he said, standing up. Sarah remained on the ground, her fingers once more flying through her hair, tugging at the crinkled waves.

"Who?"

"Jareth. He's out there in the forest trying to rescue you."

Sarah stopped her combing motions and rose to her feet. "Jareth is out there?" A look of comprehension slowly dawned on her face. "It's alright though. I don't need rescuing. But that's very sweet of you."

Hoggle stammered, "But, you…what do you mean?"

"I'm staying here. Etan is taking care of me. I don't need Jareth." Hoggle gave her a stern stare. "Really, Hoggle, I'm fine."

Jareth's words came back to him, and he straightened his shoulders. "Now, you don't know what you're saying, Etan's got you under a spell or something."

"No, he wouldn't do that to me. Not anymore. He's so kind to me now," she said softly, a smile breaking across her lips. "Jareth was the one trying to put me under a spell. With his music, you know? He was a rock star."

"What do you mean?"

Sarah tossed her mane of hair impatiently, "In the Aboveground. He sang, you know? And Etan told me all about him, how he wanted to enchant me into loving him. I wished myself away, and now Etan is protecting me." Sarah rose and slipped over to the window. Hoggle stood still, watching her glare out over the forest. "I hardly even knew Jareth back there in the Aboveground. He just appeared one day and turned my life upside down." She turned abruptly and went back to a sofa by the door. "I don't want Jareth's help. Etan takes care of me now."

Hoggle thought for a moment, his brows furrowed together.

"Sarah, I'm still your friend, right?"

Sarah seemed to shake herself awake, focusing on the dwarf. "Of course you are. You'll always be my friend."

…..oOo…..

"Jareth?" a faerie alighted upon his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Jareth twitched abruptly, just noticing the faerie for the first time as it touched him. "I don't like this. There's a feeling in the air that does not bode well."

The sky had clouded over and the static of lightning was in the air, but there was something else, almost a feeling of hopelessness that had settled over the land. He was feeling less comfortable the more he thought about sending Hoggle as an embassy. Hoggle was not a very likeable fellow, nor a very educated one. The biggest advantage was that he would remain loyal to Sarah at the very least. In that he was confident.

Jareth strode over to his tent and the faerie flew away. He closed the flaps behind him and stretched his long, gloved fingers. A crystal rolled to rest on their tips. A faint, swirling image of Sarah appeared, but it was not the Sarah he knew. Something was amiss in her eyes; her eyes that used to hold the very sky were now a stone grey to match the clouds.

He had heard of this in the Aboveground, this Stockholm syndrome, where a captive falls in love with their captor. It is a survival instinct that forces the captive's mind to focus on anything that might spare their life. It could happen in as little as a week, and it had been nearly three now. That coupled with hunger and the magic that laced the very air could not help the situation. She had been brainwashed, as the humans called it. The situation was most definitely grim.

"Your Majesty!" a voice called through the forest. "The officers have arrived!"

Jareth quickly strode out to meet the party, nine officers from the goblin army. He recognized three of them from his time. They all rode two-legged beasts that greatly resembled the taun-tauns of the planet Hoth. As he approached, several of the officers dismounted and moved toward him.

"Jareth," one of the familiar officers approached him formally.

"I'm afraid you're under arrest." The suave voice slipped across the open wasteland like an arrow. Jareth looked past the goblins to see Etan stepping out from behind them, Hoggle standing weakly by his side.


	11. As the World Falls Down

-1"I'm afraid you're under arrest."

Jareth immediately raised his arm with a crystal ready to duel, but Etan stopped him with a harsh laugh. "I wouldn't try anything so ridiculous if I were you. Sarah is mine now, and I could do anything I wanted with her." The crystal rolled from his fingertips and shattered dully on the leaf covered floor. Slowly, Jareth stepped forward. "On your knees," Etan commanded. Jareth stood defiantly for a moment, then sank to his knees. One of the goblins placed iron manacles around his wrists and pulled him back to his feet.

"I think it will help Sarah to move on once she has witnessed your execution," a laugh simmered in his throat. "Back to the castle."

…..oOo…..

"My Princess," Etan strode into Sarah's bedchambers dressed in black silk, his sword strapped to his belt. He looked distinctly eighteenth century with his buckled shoes and waistcoat.

"Etan, where have you been?" she rushed into his arms. "I was worried." Her fingers traced his jaw line.

"There now, I was only taking care of an old friend. You do remember Jareth, I'm sure."

Sarah froze in her gentle caresses. Light seemed to flicker behind her eyes. "Of course I do," she replied slowly.

"We found him hiding in the forest, planning some sort of petty rebellion with a band of misfits." Sarah felt something cold rush through her veins and she shivered violently. "Don't worry, Precious, we will take care of him tomorrow morning."

She swallowed, her throat dry. "What is to become of him?"

"I will have him executed at dawn by decapitation with an iron blade."

"No!"

Etan's body stiffened and he stepped away. "What did you say?" His voice was barely above a hiss.

"No, you can't execute him."

Etan grasped both her wrists firmly in his own. "I thought you cared for me. I am giving you the world!"

Sarah trembled, the fear pulsing across her in waves. "I know, I do, but you can't do it. Please, just don't."

He flung her hard onto the floor and she only just saved her head from smashing into the stone. "Do you think I am merciful? Do you think I am kind?"

"Yes! Etan, please, I beg you! Do just this one thing for me and I will be utterly yours."

He sneered. "Either he shall be executed, or you shall be burned at the stake like the witch you are. It is your choice." Sarah let out a strangled sob as she propped herself against the wall, cowering away from him as he loomed over her. "Am I not merciful?"

She nodded fearfully, her mind and spirit torn.

…..oOo…..

Down in a dark dungeon cell, Jareth sat limply against a damp wall, his hands raw from where the iron had rubbed at his skin. Things had never looked so bleak, even when he was losing his kingdom. His mind was simultaneously racing and blank. His arms tingled. The magic that had returned that afternoon came and went in odd waves. He had little control over it, just a pulsing power that ran through his veins, weakened by the iron.

He pressed back as far from the metal bars as he could, wincing as the magic pulsed angrily. It was painful to be so near the iron bars, but he masked his pain as much as he could. If Etan knew how much magic he had left to drain, he would have him chained completely right now. He closed his eyes and waited for the pulsing magic to settle again, feeling as it came to center in his chest and wrists. Slowly, he cupped both his hands together as though to scoop water. He felt the magic swirl about and catch in his palms. Closing them tightly together, he tried to compress it into a crystal. His imaginings poured into the little sphere, the magic obeying weakly. Slowly, a crystal began to form in his palms, growing a hardening. By the time he was sure it was complete, he could feel that it was still as fragile as eggshells.

Through the barred air shaft, he could see stars appearing. Darkness settled over the land and penetrated the dank cell. The crystal lifted lightly from his palms and rising up through the shaft. He watched it floating away, moonlight glinting softly around its shape, and fell back against the wall again. It was all the magic he had left in him, and it was all he could do to communicate with his beloved.

…..oOo…..

Sarah sat in the window, confusion embedded in every action. Nothing made sense anymore. She was hollow, filled only with instinct, emotions that ate away at her few sources of comfort.

Jareth was here. She was unsure how she felt about this. He was kind to her, oddly enough. She remembered this much when she thought of him. But Etan was kind too. She had seen that. He had made her see that.

Fear preyed at her every emotion, latched onto her hopes and desires. Everything was because of fear.

As she watched the blinking stars, a graceful movement caught her eye. A silvery bubble floated along the breeze, swaying to a time of its own in a dance that hypnotized her and drew her in gently. It came closer, nodding and dipping through the air. Something about it left her without the dread that had built in her stomach and she relaxed into the stone, feeling the cool pressure along her spine as she flattened her back against it. Her eyes focused on the crystal as it floated before her. She stretched out her hand and it hovered above her palm. Without thinking twice, she broke it with the tips of her fingers and was awash in the pleasant sensation of bathing in a stream. Refreshing currents tugged at her hair and dress and she abandoned her body to the gentle buffet of the tide as she was dragged into the hallucination of the crystal.

…..oOo…..

Sarah walked through the empty ballroom, her footfalls echoing across the filthy marble. Decorations sagged, drooping onto the ground. Broken masks lay trampled, forgotten on the steps. Here a lady's fan torn apart, there a lost glove. Dirt and dust had tarnished the once gleaming floor and cobwebs caught along the pillars and between candles. She spotted Jareth in the middle of the room, his hair tangled and goblin regalia rumpled. His face was cast down to the ground, and he did not look up until she stood quite close to him.

Jareth did not smile when he saw Sarah. She wore jeans and a vest over a puffy-sleeved blouse. It was exactly how Jareth remembered her; that defiant girl that had intrigued and plagued him so powerfully that he had given his whole kingdom just to fathom it. She glanced down and smoothed the shirt self-consciously, as though she felt his reminiscing thoughts.

The longer Sarah stood facing Jareth, the more lonely she became. Even as he reached out to touch her cheek, she felt so utterly alone.

"What have I done?" she murmured softly. "Why am I so empty?" Jareth said nothing, but traced a finger across her lip. "I feel alone again, like I did before you were a part of me, before you came back into my world." Her reserve was so broken that the tears fell unnoticed. Her confusion befuddled her all the more as the feelings of compassion began to overrule her loyalty to Etan. "I cannot love either of you wholly, and it is tearing me apart."

A stillness enveloped the room that juxtaposed Sarah's turmoil. Jareth held one hand to her damp cheek, the dark magic that had crossed her during her confinement snapped like static through his fingers. He brought another hand to her neck, brushing away the crackling magic. A flicker of the old Sarah shone though her lifeless eyes and he traced his hands across her shoulders and over her back as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

Sarah unleashed the torrent of tears that she had held since her captivity. She wept all the emotion that she had never released as a loveless adult, alone in a world of shallow colleagues and hypocrisy. She cried out all the trauma and loneliness she had contained as a confused child, the bitterness that her mother had left her when she had left her family for another one. All of the fears and drama that she had been too strong to show fell as crystalline tears down her cheek to merge with Jareth's.

Jareth had not cried since he was a young boy. He was a prince, a king, and not meant to cry. Even now, as he felt the injustice done to the creature that had so captivated him, he felt it nearly impossible to cry. He had to remain strong for her, to hold her up as her world fell down, yet he sensed that these tears would bring her the comfort that nothing else could.

And so he cried quietly onto her cheek while she wept onto his, and they stood wrapped in their tight embrace feeling for all the magical world that time had stopped. Slowly, as their sadness subsided, they separated and stood only holding hands.

Jareth finally spoke. "What has he done to you to make you think that he loves you?"

Sarah blinked rapidly, her clumped eyelashes fluttering in confusion. "He cares for me," she said at length. "He has good intentions. I know it seems absurd to you, but you must understand that there is good in him."

"He has abused you," Jareth stated. "He has starved you, tortured your mind into believing in something that is not there."

Sarah heaved a shaky sigh and squeezed his hands tighter. "He is going to execute you tomorrow. He tells me I must reject you or he will execute me as well."

"I know. And what do you think?"

She cast her head down and shook it slightly. "I cannot think anything. I do not want you to die, Jareth, I-" her voice caught again. "I wish that there were some solution to this, but-"

Jareth silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Do you believe that there is a solution?"

"I-"

"Do you _believe _that we can survive this?" He implored her with his eyes to speak of hope.

She tried to set her face, but her lips trembled slightly. "I do not see how I can exist without hurting either of you."

"Sarah, will you trust me?"

She stuttered, "wh-what?"

"When it comes time to make a decision, will you trust me to make it for you?"

She thought frantically. "Will you hurt Etan?"

"You must trust me. Trust me, Sarah. Do as I say and I will save you from this mess."

Sarah gave one brief sob, then nodded, her lip caught between her teeth to hold it. "I trust you."

Jareth felt the magic draining from the crystal as the power began to transfer back to Sarah. Their hallucination was fading. "Trust me Sarah, and I will guide you." She nodded again, more fervently this time and their images faded more. He forced a smile that she matched shakily.

Sarah called out through the fog, "I will be there for you," and their vision blinded to white, then black. She felt the tugging in her hair again as she was tumbled back to her window, landing gracefully back where she had been before the crystal.

She could feel something surging through her veins, pulsing like the strength she sought to regain, and she understood clearly what needed to be done.


	12. Iron

Sarah felt the magic flowing through her veins, and the longer it refreshed her weary mind and body, the more she understood what had to be done. It was not what she wanted to do, but when were the right choices in life the most appealing?

She did not sleep much, simply drifted in and out of troubled sleep that seemed awash with emotions but void of dreams. She felt an irrepressible sense of guilt and fear, everything was full of fear, but behind it all was a thread of hope and love that permeated everything.

Just before dawn, Etan entered her room. Just inside the door, silhouetted against the candle-lit hall, he stared at Sarah wordlessly. She rose from the bed feeling restless but determined.

"Have you made your decision?" he asked in a monotone.

Sarah nodded but said nothing. She was already fully dressed in wide linen slacks and a loose fitting halter, all in white, and belted at the waist with a wide brown leather sash.

"Then let us be gone from here," he led her from the room, his capes swirling in his wake. Sarah hurried to catch up with him and caught his arm. He stopped and looked her in the face. His expression was cold but betrayed a hint of pleasure at her touch. She wrapped her arm around his and buried her face against his shoulder as they continued to walk. She did not cry, but instead tried to focus her energies on her determination.

Just as the sun broke the horizon and spilled light across the dirt ground, they entered the courtyard where Jareth stood chained and fettered on a platform, a guillotine just behind him. When he saw Sarah, he showed no trace of emotion, but raised his head in a gesture of strength and defiance.

All around the courtyard goblins crowded, some jeering and clucking. Sarah saw with a sharp intake of breath that Hoggle stood in great finery alongside another well dressed goblin placed in prominent view of the platform. He did not look up as Sarah and Etan passed, but fingered something attached to his shiny new belt.

Etan led Sarah to a smaller platform adjoining Jareth's and thrust her atop it. She stood before the taunting crowd, her bare arms hanging limply by her sides. Her gaze fell on a smaller table before her, covered in strange iron tools with sharp, menacing points and hooks. The audience fell slowly silent as Etan swaggered before the crowd, glaring at them all.

"We are gathered here today to witness the execution of Jareth, former king of the Goblin Kingdom." A fresh chorus of mindless cheers washed through the crowd and died down as Etan stared at his audience. "And we stand to hear princess Sarah's proclamation. Sarah," he whirled to face her. "Will you stand by Jareth and face your own execution, or will you take my hand in marriage, to live forever as my faerie queen?"

Sarah hesitated, shifting on the spot. "Think carefully, my dear, for it will be the decision of a lifetime," he laughed maniacally, and the goblins slowly joined him. "Come now, is it so difficult? What is your decision?"

Her shoulders squared, Sarah took a step forward. "Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have survived here in the castle beyond the goblin city," her voice rang out across the courtyard. The faces of the goblins were frozen, wide-eyed. Etan glared at her through veiled expression. "For my will is as strong as yours and my kingdom is as great," she continued, force piling behind every syllable. "You have no power over me," she finished, just above a whisper.

For a moment, the resounding silence seemed to pierce every nerve of her body. Then, all at once, it was broken by a slow steady applause. Etan strode toward the platforms laughing mirthlessly and clapping his hands together. "Oh, good show, my faerie princess, but you fail to grasp one tiny detail: I am not Fae."

Sarah faltered, unsure of what he meant. She glanced at Jareth, whose eyes betrayed his fear.

"I am not bound by any magical law. I am not hindered by the restraints of enchantment or lore." He strode to the table with the iron instruments and lifted a spear-like rod, brandishing it lazily. "I am not even weakened by iron," he flung it aside with a laugh. "_You have no power over me_," he mimicked. The crowd broke into jeers. "I have the power, Sarah, and I have it because I am _not_ magical." Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again as she found she had nothing to say. "I was wished away by my hopeless mother. She was a whore, a lowly commoner, servant to the rich and lusty of London in the seventeen-hundreds. And she wished me away to this," he gestured around him. "And left me for whatever fate lay in store for me. Me! Just a pitiful little four-year-old child, neglected and malnourished. But before Jareth could make me his slave, another servant of the populace, I was rescued. You see, at the time a certain sorceress by the name of Evelia leFay sought a son and persuaded Jareth to give me to her as a symbol of peace," he burst out laughing. "And so I was bartered away, a simple token. A mortal. But being amongst the Fae and in this so magical world has preserved me, allowed me to live as any Fae child would, aging slowly and wisely. I gained magic from my sorceress mother and learned all that was required of a true Fae king." Sarah was breathing heavily. "It was so simple to take over the kingdom after you weakened Jareth so considerably, my princess."

Sarah stood shaking slightly as he advanced. Guards surfaced from nowhere and clapped her wrists before her in iron shackles. Jareth made a movement to suggest he tried to lunge at Etan, but was restrained by another set of guards.

"I cannot decide which will be more pleasant, to let Jareth watch as I torture Sarah or the other way around," he looked between the two prisoners with a frightening look of pleasure about his face. He selected a long instrument with a sharp, barbed end, and moved toward Jareth. The guards retreated to the crowd.

"No! Sarah cried out instinctively. Etan, please," she sobbed. "Forgive me and let him go."

Etan whirled around to face her. "No, I don't think so, little one, little Sarah," he stalked up to her and bent his face next to hers. "Did you know that your name means princess?" he whispered . "Shame that you won't really live to your namesake." He raised the barb and Sarah cowered.

There was a swooshing sound but Sarah did not feel the strike. She looked up and saw Etan struggling with Jareth, who had pounced upon his back and wrapped his chain around Etan's throat. Sarah watched helplessly as the two struggled.

"D-Do something!" Etan spluttered at his guards, who watched transfixed. They did not move. Another great fact about goblins was that they enjoyed a spectacle.

Etan finally succeeded in throwing Jareth from his back and he dove for the table of torture devices, snatching up a long knife. Jareth scrambled to his feet, brandishing his chains and steadying himself. "It will be a pleasure to kill you," Etan growled as he lunged forward. Jareth stepped easily to the side and whirled to face him, his foot restraints rattling. Etan took another great lunge and Jareth jumped again to the side, this time tripping and falling hard to his back. A long streak of red grew through the tattered fabric and speckled his filthy shirt. Jareth grimaced and grasped his chest tightly, blood seeping between his pale fingers.

Across the courtyard, Etan righted himself and pounced on his prey, knife extended. He let out a great shout as he dove. Sarah screamed and fell to her knees. Everything moved slowly in her mind's eye, as though through a thick mire.

Just before Etan could land, Jareth braced the long, spear that Etan had cast aside so flippantly. With a sickening thwack, Etan's full weight impaled him on the stake. Jareth grimaced as blood spattered his face. Etan pivoted slowly to the side, landing on his side. His eyes did not leave Jareth's as he coughed red foam.

"I'd say you are just as weakened by iron as anyone else," Jareth said softly. Etan gave a shuddering gasp and then the life fled his eyes.

Sarah leapt from the platform and fell at Etan's side, sobbing. Even as she touched his bloody cheek, she clung to Jareth desperately. Her bizarre love for Etan swelled in a fury of emotion, all the fear and adoration culminating into this one, life-altering experience. And slowly, ever so slowly, something broke from her. Her tears turned from those of lament to those of relief.

Sometime later, she could not sense the time, the goblin guards released the fetters and Jareth and Sarah rose to face the crowd.

All around them the goblins stood cheering. It didn't matter much to them that Etan was dead. Jareth had put on a spectacular show for them. Jareth broke away and knelt next to Etan's lifeless body. He grasped the goblin insignia and yanked it from Etan's neck, replacing it around his own throat. A new chorus of cheers broke out and Jareth returned to Sarah, staggering slightly and clutching his chest with one hand. Blood still seeped from between his fingers, but he smiled at Sarah comfortingly.

Her blazing white garments were now blossomed with blood that had pressed from the front of Jareth's soaked shirt to hers. He took her hand gently, sharing and turned to face the cheering crowd, pulling Sarah alongside him. They stood in the rapture of the pleased audience, the violence left behind them.

For several long moments, the crowd cheered and Sarah found that she was able to smile again. She glanced at Jareth who was smirking happily. She gave a small laugh and he faced her.

"Sarah, I-" he started to speak, but even as he did so she could see that something was wrong. His face was paler than ever she had seen and his eyes slid unfocused. His knees buckled suddenly and he slumped forward onto her.

"Jareth?" Sarah shrieked. The cheers died down and were replaced with anxious whispers. "Jareth? What's wrong?" She helped him to lay down on his back on the dirt floor, his limp hand splayed across his bleeding chest. Sarah covered his hand with hers, supporting his head with her other. His eyes were frighteningly foggy, clouded with some unseen threat. "Jareth, stay with me. I'm here for you," she pleaded under her breath.

He took a slow, shaky breath and convulsed slightly. "Sarah, I- I love you, I-"

"Don't say goodbye to me, Jareth. You will be fine. We'll heal you and you'll be fine," her voice shook with the threat of more tears.

"The iron," he said softly, "magic won't heal the wound."

Sarah moved his hand and ran her finger down the tear in the shirt, somehow slicing it open as it slid down his chest. She pulled back the fabric to reveal a deep gash across the ribs just beneath his heart. She realized with a shock of horror that she could see the white of the bone. And he had lost so much blood.

"Toby," she whispered. "Jareth, I have to take you to my brother. He's a medical student. He'll fix you without magic."

Jareth grimaced and nodded. "Sarah, I love you," he said again, his eyes closed.

"No! Jareth, you have to stay awake. Listen to me, I don't know how to get us back to the Aboveground. You have to transport us there, do you understand? You have to take us to my home. Can you do that?" she grasped his hand and lifted his head a little bit. He nodded again, opening his eyes and looking straight into hers.

He reached with his bloodied hand to grasp hers as tightly as he could. "Think of home," he whispered, and she thought as hard as she could of their evenings by the fire, the sofa, her ruby red walls. Desperately, she fought to summon all the magic she had and envisioned it transferring into Jareth's hand. All at once a bright, gleaming crystal appeared and burst, showering them with glittering shards of dissolving magic. Everything went a blinding white, then the deepest of blacks.


	13. Stitch in Time

-1With a soft pop, Sarah and Jareth appeared in the living room of Sarah's flat. Jareth immediately collapsed onto the floor. Sarah helped him up onto the couch and he promptly lost consciousness.

"Jareth!" she screamed, as she ran to the phone. "Stay awake! You have to stay awake." She snatched up the phone and hit the speed dial. It rang twice before Toby answered.

"Hello?"

"Toby! You have to come over right now," Sarah fought the urge to scream, but tears of worry slipped down her cheeks and spattered the table.

"Sarah?" She could hear Toby fumble with the phone. "Where have you been? I've called you at least seven times. No one's seen you for five days."

"Just come over right now, and bring your kit."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, it's Jareth. He's badly hurt."

"Jareth? What do you mean?"

"Just come over now!"

"Okay, I'm going," she heard the click of the phone landing in the receiver.

Sarah hung up and threw the phone onto the big chair as she ran into the kitchen. _Something to stop the bleeding_, she thought, and she grabbed up as many dish towels as she could see and raced back into the living room. "Jareth, stay awake." At the touch of the towels to his bloodied chest, Jareth's eyes flicked open.. "Just hold on," she whispered. He took in a ragged breath, and lay limp, allowing Sarah to press the wound firmly.

"Why am I so weak?" he asked hoarsely.

Sarah was relieved to hear his voice, but even more afraid to hear him sound so defeated. "You've lost a lot of blood."

He grimaced slightly. "Why won't I stop bleeding?"

"The wound is too deep. Toby is going to come and give you stitches and it will close the wound."

Jareth opened his eyes and gave Sarah a disgusted look. "He's going to stitch me? Like fabric?"

Sarah laughed feebly. "Yes, just like fabric." He laughed quietly, then winced and fell silent once more.

They sat frozen in this pose for another five minutes, waiting for Toby. The minutes slid by interminably. Late sunlight caught in the dusty air, the particles swirling and falling. Sarah watched as the light gradually faded from yellow to orange, and then to a dusky lavender. "He'll be here soon," she said softly just to break the quiet. Jareth stirred slightly. A sudden knock caused Sarah to jump. "Come in!"

Toby, tan even in the Spring, pushed open the door and his blue eyes searched the darkened room worriedly. He tossed his sandy blonde hair and strode into the hall, kicking the door shut behind him. "Sarah?"

"In here," she called. He moved to the couch and clicked on a lamp.

He gazed over Jareth and raised his eyebrows. "You're kidding me," he murmured. "What's going on?"

Sarah took a steadying breath and said, in as level a voice as she could muster, "Toby, he's been cut very badly. You have to stitch him up. He's lost so much blood," she added helplessly.

"Why don't you take him to a hospital?"

"We just can't, Toby. Please!"

He appraised the situation skeptically but threw his better judgment aside at the look on his sister's face. "Alright, I'll do what I can. But then he needs to go to a hospital," he knelt next to the couch and looked him over. "Let me see," he gently lifted the towels and probed the wound. "How did you get this?" He dabbed it gently and reached for his kit.

Jareth swallowed thickly. "Iron."

Toby blinked a few times. "Beg pardon?" He glanced between Jareth and Sarah.

"He was stabbed trying to save me. Just stitch him up, please."

Toby saw the tears in Sarah's eyes and immediately opened his kit. He pulled out a syringe and flicked it. "I'm going to give you an anesthetic so that you won't feel this."

"No," Jareth said quietly. "Just do it. And quickly, please."

"But-"

"It won't do any good for someone like me. I'll be alright."

Toby looked to Sarah, but she simply nodded and gripped Jareth's hand.

"Fine," he threaded the needle and swept a sterilizing pad over it and the skin around the jagged wound. He took a deep breath then pulled the skin together. Jareth closed his eyes tightly and inhaled.

The needle plunged into the skin deftly, swimming in and then out. Jareth let out a small groan. Again the needle pressed: in and out. Toby flinched as Jareth let out a muffled cry of pain. All three people braced themselves and Toby slipped the needle through the skin once more. All three people winced, but Jareth was silent, his lip caught between his teeth. Again and again the needle flashed, steadily sewing Jareth's wound.

Finally Toby tied off the stitches and cut the thread. Jareth was panting softly, taking as shallow breaths as possible. Toby sat back on his heels and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Why couldn't I use anesthetic?" he finally asked, his stress seeming to pierce the room.

Sarah glanced at Jareth, who nodded slightly, his eyes still pressed closed..

"Because he's Fae," she replied bluntly.

Toby raised his eyebrows. "He's Fae? You mean, like in the stories you used to read me?" Sarah nodded. He looked around the room, disbelief sketched across every feature. "You mean to tell me that Jareth, the world-renowned rock star is a Fae?" he laughed "Hold on a second, you mean there are Fae? _Real_ Fae?"

Sarah watched Toby as he rose and paced the room. She tightened her grip on Jareth's hand and drew another breath. "I've been in the Underground, with Jareth. I- I accidentally wished myself away to the goblin king and he came and kidnapped me. I didn't realize that-"

Toby interrupted, "But Jareth is the goblin king," then stopped and looked puzzled.

Sarah continued slowly, watching Toby's face. "I thought so too, but his kingdom was taken over by an evil king, Etan, and he kidnapped me and used magic and torture to make me fall in love with him. But Jareth," she reached out and touched his face affectionately. "He came and rescued me. But Etan didn't let go without a fight. That's how Jareth was hurt, saving me from Etan."

Toby sat down on the chair, eyes vacant and flicking back and forth as though listening to some inner story. "That book, _Labyrinth_, it's all real, isn't it?"

Something about his voice had changed. He sounded like a little boy again. "Toby?"

"I remember it. I remember Jareth, but only barely. It can't be from his albums or television because I recognize the hair. No one could forget that hair," he muttered to himself. He stared at Jareth, then suddenly started. "That pendant," he leaned forward and lifted the goblin insignia to examine it, then he straightened and tugged at the neckline of his own shirt, pulling it down to reveal his collarbone. The exact same symbol was etched into his skin like a strange scar. "How…?"

Jareth opened his eyes and looked at the scar, then pushed himself up to a sitting position. Sarah tried to push him back down, but he waved her away, pressing a hand to his chest but no longer wincing. "Toby?"

Toby's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed in confusion. He looked between Sarah and Jareth, reading their open faces and becoming more and more perplexed.

Sarah reached out and put a hand on his forearm, which was closest to her place on the couch. "You have met before, a long time ago, when you were two." Toby turned all his attention to Sarah. "I- before I knew any better- well, I wished you away to the goblin king," she took a deep breath, watching Toby's reaction. "And Jareth came and took you." Toby said nothing, but his eyes slipped unfocused again, his vision somewhere inside himself. "I felt so awful and pleaded for you to be returned, but Jareth made me solve his Labyrinth to win you back or else he would turn you into a goblin."

"But she solved the Labyrinth," Jareth broke in finally, his voice much closer to his usual suave strength. "And I offered her everything she could ever have wanted in exchange for you, but…." he trailed off and gave a little nod toward Toby. "As you can see, she chose you. So do not blame her," he added defensively, though quietly.

"I don't," Toby replied calmly, his brows still puckered in uncertainty. They remained frozen for a time, each watching the other, then all at once Toby let out a huge, booming laugh. "Haha! But now it all makes sense! The dreams, the mark," he touched his chest. "I knew I fit into this somehow," he added quietly. "And the creatures…."

"The _what_?" Sarah squeezed Jareth's hand more tightly than she ought have, for he winced again.

"Ludo and Sir Didymus and Hoggle." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small green plastic bottle covered in official looking labels. "I guess that's why these never worked," he shook the bottle lightly, the pills jangling around like a baby's rattle.

Sarah's eyebrows shot up into her disheveled hair. "They visited you?"

"Ever since I was little. When I was older, the shrink thought I might be borderline schizophrenic and put me on these," he raised the bottle. "I tried to pretend that they weren't there, but when I least expected it they would pop up in the corner of my vision or in my mirror." He lapsed back into thought, the silence unbearably thick. All at once he burst out laughing. "But this explains everything! Either everything was real, or I've completely lost it!"

"It's real, Toby. Don't worry," she patted his arm with a smile, then turned to Jareth. "But… What is the mark? Isn't that-"

"The royal goblin insignia," he finished. Toby registered mild surprise. "When I took Toby, and I watched you fight through my labyrinth, I realized that you, both of you, were far stronger than I had imagined." He turned his attention to Toby. "I chose you to be my heir, my own son, and marked you as a true goblin king, granted you immunity from the magical powers that would have turned you to goblin. And Sarah I chose as my queen" he turned to her. Sarah's face softened as her eyes misted. "But of course, I underestimated you again and you defeated me and chose Toby instead. But I understand now that you were too young, too fair. We Fae often forget the youth of mortals." By now, much of the color had returned to his face and lips, his voice was much stronger, though he remained delicate with his wound. "But we do not forget the mortals that affect us."

Sarah grasped his hand tightly, careful of his stained chest. "Oh, Jareth," she whispered softly.

"What the hell?" Toby interjected. The couple returned their gaze to them. "You're serious?" There was a moment of silence, then Jareth nodded. "No way! Wait, you made me your _heir_?" He turned to face Sarah, "_You_ wished me away! That was mean!" He pouted, once more returning to the little boy Sarah knew so well. The fully-grown Toby put one hand on his hip and ran the other through his hair. "This is _so_ nuts."

"Toby, I didn't really mean it. I hope you know that," Sarah said after a while.

"What? Oh, yes, I forgive you. I would have done the same thing. But this is just so _weird_!_" _They all remained frozen awkwardly as Toby processed everything.

Jareth broke the silence, "Yes, it is weird." Sarah nodded. "You know, I never expected that this would be how I met you again. I never really pictured it. I was more than grateful that I found Sarah. I guess I supposed Sarah would introduce us once I went off tour and had the time."

"Hey that's another thing- you've been in the papers," Toby walked back to the front door and opened it, retrieving four rolled up bundles of paper. He selected the most recent one and flipped it open. "You made headlines today."

"I what?"

Toby spread the article on the table. Sarah helped Jareth sit up to read it.

**Jareth Missing? Latest Reports on the Glam Rocker's Disappearance**

Special correspondent Mina Harker, reporting from London

It has been four days since Jareth, worldwide rock star, has gone missing. Reports from his manager and tour mates categorically state that he has not been seen or heard from since their final concert held last Saturday.

'I would think he'd stay in touch. He hasn't answered his phone or emails. I've had clients chose to slip underground for a few weeks or more after a big tour, but they always keep their agents informed," reports George Kaplan, Jareth's agent. "It's not possible for someone that famous to slip off of the radar without suspicions being raised."

The article continued, detailing the investigation for Jareth, who had not been seen to even leave the building after the concert. Rumors of kidnapping had the police busy, though many speculated that he may have died of a drug overdose or simply gone undercover. The general opinion was that he was eccentric enough to have done just about anything without caring what the populace chose to believe. One critic even harshly claimed that the disappearance was only a publicity stunt.

Rima Schooner, special correspondent said of the missing Jareth: "He realized that he's run out of ideas. His fame is fading fast, and he's clinging to his one-time success."

Jareth snorted a laugh, then grimaced. "Well, I guess next time I'll let my agent know before I slip Underground again."


	14. The End

-1Over the next few weeks, Jareth's condition improved until all that was left was a scar. Toby marveled at the state of the healing, now fully convinced that he was not insane. Though adjusted to the idea, there had been a lot of explaining.   
"With an heir to the throne, I would no longer be the Underground's most eligible bachelor," Jareth elaborated one balmy evening on Sarah's patio, iced tea rattling in their hands. "And of course I had hoped that I wouldn't even need to be a bachelor anymore," he nudged Sarah with his foot, which was thrown over one arm of the plastic chairs that Sarah had bought to replace her iron ones.   
"But why go so long without contacting us?" Toby continued, lifting his glass.   
"Keep in mind that you needed to grow and my heart was thoroughly broken. Beside that, I was overthrown shortly after our brief meeting."   
"What I wonder is how the proud Jareth dealt with being heartbroken," Sarah teased.   
"Well, I moped and fretted inwardly, and outwardly I made life hell for everyone around me. Introduce a raving, power-hungry half-Fae and I lose my kingdom." Sarah grinned sheepishly. "I made the most of being banished though. It was so fun to play with the music industry," he took another nonchalant sip. "I don't think I'll miss it though."   
On the table by the pitcher of tea lay a newspaper with a huge photograph of Jareth in all his glamorous attire crooning to a gaggle of star-struck teens.   
**Jareth Mystery Solved**   
Special correspondent Rima Schooner   
Tragedy strikes the fans of Jareth, internationally famous rock star, when he announced his early retirement. To add to their misery, he also announced his engagement. Sarah Williams, an economics teacher in Sacramento California, is the subject of much jealous gossip amongst the lady fans.   
"We had no idea Jareth was even seeing anyone," Jareth's manager reports. And apparently, neither did anyone else. Miss Williams was never spotted out and about with the star, nor can anyone claim the credit of introducing them. Neither one of the couple will submit to an interview.   
After the sudden reappearance of Jareth two weeks prior, many speculate that the couple may have eloped in the aftermath of his first and final tour, wishing for a completely secluded wedding. No date has been announced as of yet. Jareth insists that his unusual disappearance was merely to take a break from the spotlight. "I went back home for a while and took care of some unfinished business," he explained in a public letter to his manager. "I plan to return again sometime soon, and possibly stay there on a more permanent basis." While these lines are completely vague, they seem to elicit the proposal to Sarah Williams.   
Though many are under the impression that Jareth comes from Brixton, the incredibly secluded singer has never alluded to his true place of residence home town.… Continued on page A18.   
"But all this about returning home on a more permanent basis," Toby gestured toward the paper, "Does that mean you both are going back Underground?"   
"Perhaps," Jareth responded.   
"But we would come back for visits," Sarah interjected quickly.   
"Yes, of course. The trouble is that I cannot rule my kingdom from the Aboveground."   
Toby subconsciously rubbed the mark on his collarbone, wondering about the future. Jareth seemed to hear his thoughts and smiled reassuringly. "You don't have to make a decision now. I'm in no hurry to give up my kingdom again," he laughed.   
Soon after Jareth had regained his strength, he had once more expressed his desire that Toby should learn to become a ruler. Toby knew that should he accept, he would give up everything he had perused in the Aboveground, only surfacing now and again for appearances. It was a decision punctuated by an extreme longing to explore the world of magic, follow his imagination back to his impractical desire to study art and literature.   
Perhaps one day in the future, after he had his medical degree and lived more of his life in the mortal realm, perhaps then he would return to the Underground and follow this new path.   
"I'm just looking forward to relaxing in peace for the first time since I got into the blasted music business."   
"You know they won't forget about you up here anytime soon," Sarah sighed.   
"Jareth's one album, his enigmatic year in the sun," he raised his glass in a mock toast. "They'll remember you forever."   
"It wont be long at all," Jareth smirked knowingly, tightening his fingers around Sarah's hand. She smiled across at him, completing the image of perfect tranquility and happiness that would last far longer than forever. 


End file.
